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comicbookgirl2 · 2 years

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The falling star of SVTFOE OT 1- the eclipsing of potential.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ua-ANnAVLjA&t=4185s

now before I begin I would like to address this video, it’s a very well made video and honestly I’d highly recommend you watch it- maybe even before or after reading this? I agree with a lot of what he said other than the parts regarding the one and only Eclipsa.

Now I know I’m going to get Flammed for this- because a lot of people believe that during the most darkest and dreary parts of this show- eclipsa ironically was the saving Grace- and I’d agree, because she was the one and only thing that seemed to remind you that you weren’t only watching this show for the terrible shipping but for the actual plot?? But then I’d also disagree because- wait for it- Eclipsa was technically the worst thing to happen to this show.

Now lower your pitchforks please- and let me explain.

Let’s go back to the good old days when svtfoe could be considered good, now shall we? Yeah I mean like season 2. Star and Marco were tolerable and their relationship was pretty well written. Star, being the free spirited child she was, had this persistant worry about the loss of her freedom when she became queen which was honestly? Quite reasonable to have. Being a queen is a huge responsibility- as you now become the ultimate servant and leader to your people. There really won’t be time for mistakes or adventures so star’s anxiety at entering this new phase of life was a really interesting perspective, and the message of her becoming a queen that could best serve her people in her own way was also a really good message to. Nowadays when kids grow up they might feel heavily pressured by society to get a reasonable job, settle down, anything done outside of the norm isn’t usually received well. So the message of telling star- yeah you have to grow Up, but you can still do it in your own way, while handling your responsibilities was a really nice message! Especially when you realized that other queens of Mewni had their own ways of ruling. Maybe star could look to them for guidance or inspiration? Maybe she’d want to set a completely new path while learning how to balance out her responsibility! I was really waiting to see how it would play out- heck they even fully addressed it in an episode! In addition to this, we had the whole plot point of Marco being possibly evil, and Toffee’s plan slowly but surely shaping up to be huge...IT HAD A LOT OF POTENTIAL-

until...it didn’t.

Enter in one of if not the worst plot twists of all time. Eclipsa and Meteora.

Now you can argue them not making eclipsa evil was an original/good thing and I’d say sure- fair- BUT. Them making eclipsa the rightful ruler essentially rendered Star’s whole crisis of being a good ruler while being true to herself ultimately pointless- she could easily just hand off the crown- because it wasn’t hers to begin with. What was the point of giving star that plotlines if it didn’t matter in the end? Heck what was the point of showing Moon being a good queen at the beginning of at the end she easily tossed it all away and suffered massive character assassination???

And the worst part of this- was the terrible racism analogy between monsters and mewmans. Monsters do not make good comparisons to POCs especially ones that can easily suck your soul out. In fact remember the plot line that The show told you involved globgor actually committing many atrocities against the spider folks? Then it conveniently dropped it? Yeah I do too. The fact that Eclipsa chose love over her responsibilities as a ruler for someone who’s committed a lot of crimes against mewman’s political allies should at the very least make the people suspicious and mistrusting of her. But instead the show rights this off as cool, and quirky and brave- while writing off anyone who didn’t like her as one dimensional racists- like what??? There are legitimate reasons for the mewmans to not trust eclipsa. Ones that DO NOT INVOLVE RACISM. ((Globgor was such an atrocious let down too)).

One of the worst parts about Eclipsa returning, and not being evil was how it killed soooo many potential plot points/purpose of so many things. Don’t get me wrong- a lot of GREAT things were dropped- but these were so bad..

What was the point of showing Moon being a responsible queen if it didn’t matter?

What was the point of Star struggling with the idea of her upcoming responsibilities if it didn’t matter?

What was the point of THIS if it didn’t mater?!?!?

Or THIS?!

In fact what was the point of teaching about the power of responsibility if you were ironically going to reward the least responsible character in the show??? Sure you can argue- she showed great responsibility when she was willing to kill Meteroa for Mewni- but I’d actually argue that having her take back the crown, after seeing what she did to Moon, and then later put aside her responsibilities to save her husband (who was said committed a lot of monstrosities against the spiderbite folk mind you), is just...not right. And ironically Eclipsa wasn’t the worst offender of this.

Her daughter, also easily one of the worst characters of the show, Meteora- who drained multiple princesses for their life force to stay young while making others miserable for a living- went on a huge genocidal rampage through mewni- against innocent people- for the throne- and all she got was a reset in life, where she’s now in line for the throne.....

So she essentially got rewarded for committing massive genocide! Great lesson to teach kids SVTFOE! Really nice!

She’s arguably worse than Toffee when you think about it, yet only one of them get their full comeuppance- which is ironic because the one who was right ended up dying the brutal death.

Ironically, Eclipsa could’ve been both right, and the villain?? If she had been a villain, I would’ve called her one of- if not the best, American animated villains. Why? Well to start- a lot of the things seemed to be really coincidental- like her just happening to have a spell that would kill an immortal (for no particular reason) that would just so grant her, her freedom. For someone who’s like “lol I’m not that evil” she has a lot of dark spells (one for invading someone’s privacy, and a bunch for just flat out KILLING people)- and her messages/advice to Star when struggling to deal with her power from her mewberty form was...questionable to say the least- she’s someone who seems to operate without consideration of responsibility- but that doesn’t mean that she’s not a schemer...

Some of the best villains or antagonists in fiction, are those that are usually right in some shape or form, that end up challenging the protagonist’s whole pov. Eclipsa could’ve been that.

Eclipsa’s whole point of running away could’ve been tied to Toffee- maybe you could’ve had her whole plot be the fact that she was a long term planner, who wanted to fight monster racism- a good goal, in the less than moral way possible. Maybe she had pulled some strings in the background that, if the show had actually acted on the potential of Marco becoming an evil monster that joined Toffee’s side- or Toffee becoming something monstrously powerful- could’ve forced monsters and mewmans to work together against a united goal, showing that there was potential for the species to equally co-exist and work together- something that Eclipsa had realized a long time ago, but realized that she wouldn’t be the one to be the catalyst for such revolution- but she knew that someday, somehow there would be a potential princess who would, she just needed to ensure the right actions would lead to the right results. Would it be cliche? Yeah, but it would’ve been a lot better than flat out character assassination, untied plot ends, and MASSIVE GENOCIDE.

Also speaking of the massive genocide, meteora and eclipsa- can we talk about that for a show that wants to be ‘complex’ when addressing social issues- it really seemed to ignore a lot of social issues in and of itself? It’s like racism is the only issue that anyone in this show cares to address.

No, like really- think about it.

Some of the mewmans live really really terribly- there’s clearly a caste system there, but it’s just passed off as comedy....why doesn’t it bother anyone??? Is poverty just not that important???

Some of the characters like Mina, and Moon, are clearly dealing with the trauma of their past- Mina who’s the victim of propaganda, and PTSD, has literal magic driving her crazy. But it’s usually passed off a joke and never further developed. The fact that Solaris, who is largely responsible for inventing such magic responsible the monstrocitity of a final we got- had the audacity to glare at someone who she, herself- recruited via BLATANT PROPOGANDA, and has suffered because of Solaris more than anyone else is disgusting.

The journal pretty clearly depicts Solaris as a genocidal racist to- so am I the only one missing the ten character arcs of development that she must’ve underwent to love Meteora? If it was in the journal, then that’s just terrible writing, because the watcher shouldn’t have to look for outside material when watching a tv show.

Moon, who had her mother killed by Toffee, the same man- who literally steals her soul, caused the death of council member, and almost killed her own daughter. Imagine dealing with that, she was so distraught when she saw Toffee, who she thought killed Star, she could barely think right. How come her trauma is never addressed or talked about???

Now I’ll admit, I don’t like Steven Universe, it’s far from perfect with it’s delivery at times, but at least- it could address multiple issues with mental health, social issues and a caste system. It at least could address it’s internal and external character plot lines.

This show? The second half of it? Eh no.

(Ironically his earth friends leaving was a great analogy for all of the potential for the show to be awesome dissipating in the later half of this show)

Also can we talk about the fact that for a show that seems to speak out against racism so much- how come when Toffee wanted to destroy magic it was bad, but when Star does it, it’s good? Isn’t that a little racist in and of itself?

Other plot points that were also rendered pointless by this stupid twist:

SMH THEY REALLY WASTED PATRICK STUMP’S TIME LIKE THIS!!!

The awesome ballad of star butterfly (song doesn’t matter because star isn’t even the real future queen, little miss genocidal maniac is)

#svtfoe #anti svtfoe ending #anti svtfoe last seasons #marco diaz #we got robbed #analysis #star vs the force of evil season 3 #star vs the forces of evil #moon #star #toffee

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binniedeactivated · 3 years

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𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧. || 🌪💦 (1.5)

[ m.list ]

➦ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐏𝐎𝐂 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

➦ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐮

➦ 𝐖/𝐂 | 3k

➦ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 | 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

➦ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | angst, smut

POC = person of color

yeonjun waited. he was trying to think of different ways he could address the situation but there was no other way he could think of, besides get angry. he didn’t want to get angry especially since what happened last time. he didn’t want myla or even daniel to hear them arguing and he especially didn’t want to wake up logan. but there was no way he was going to leave this situation unaddressed. he needed to say something even if it ruined them. he kisses a sleeping logan on his forehead, tucking him inside his crib and covering him with his fuzzy blanket to ensure warmth. like clockwork as soon as he turned off his light and shut the door behind him he could hear the front door downstairs opening, indicating that leah was home.

and just like always she took her shoes off at the door and went straight upstairs to the bedroom where yeonjun was. she didn’t say a word which always pissed yeonjun off. it didn’t seem like they were married anymore it seemed as though they were roommates and he hated that. especially when it seemed that way in front of the kids. he watched her go to the closet to undress and look for a change of clothes, ignoring the fact that yeonjun was sitting there waiting for her to speak. he was done waiting though. he was just going to take matters into his own hands. “so? is there something you want to tell me?”. he starts. she grabs a pair of sweatpants from her drawer. “what are you talking about yeonjun?”. he threw the condom wrapper to the middle of the bed for her to see. anxiety flooded her veins.”what is that?”. yeonjun shakes his head in disbelief. “don’t play stupid with me. whose condom is that? because it sure as hell isn’t mine”. leah swallows. “it isn’t mine either”. he tilts his head. “then whose is it? daniel’s? because he’s only in the fourth grade and he doesn’t have any money to buy it so stop being a fucking liar and just tell me the truth”.

“I’m telling you the truth. you need to calm down!”.

“don’t tell me what I need to do. you need to do a lot of things. you can start by just telling me that you’re fucking someone else. go ahead I’m a grown man I can take it”.

“oh please. nobody has time for this shit yeonjun. every time I walk in the house you find something new to argue with me about”.

“every time you walk in the house -- you mean every single night after everything is said and done? after I cook dinner, clean, do laundry, put the kids to bed here you come walking in the door like you’ve had the longest day ever I don’t even remember the last time you’ve even told your kids goodnight”.

“you’re the one that suggested I started working again remember? now you’re getting mad at my hours and how hard I work. it’s my job yeonjun”.

“so your job just cancels out you being a mom all together? your job is more important than being around?”.

she ignores him, getting into bed and angrily throwing the blanket over her shoulder while facing the opposite direction. “you know what yeonjun? if this is all we’re going to do then why don’t you just fucking divorce me. you’re obviously not pleased with anything I do”.

“and then what? raise our kids in two separate homes? going to court for custody battles and child support and all that crazy ass mess I’m not doing that. my kids don’t deserve that. we need to communicate”.

“how long have we been communicating yeonjun? it’s been like this for almost a year look where communicating has gotten us. it’s always something new to argue about”.

“because you’re a liar leah. and you don’t want to admit a damn thing. if you can start comfortably telling me about your feelings then there would be nothing to argue about. do you even want me? be honest”.

she adjusts the blankets over herself, shutting her eyes. “I’m going to sleep yeonjun”.

yeonjun rolls his eyes, flicking the condom wrapper off the bed. “of course you are. whenever I confront you it’s always the perfect time for you to sleep”. she continued to maintain her silence hoping he would be quiet somewhere in between. and eventually he did. she was free to drift off and think about things other than the failing marriage at hand.

adriana holds her index finger to her lips while her class was in a straight line at the door. well, sort of in a straight line. the line looked a little dysfunctional and out of place, which is why she was standing in front of them giving them the silent expression to calm them down. “guys. guys before we go anywhere we need to make sure we’re silent because there are other classes still working. if we’re too loud we might lose our chance to go to the book fair today”. upon hearing that, that threat was enough for the small children to rush and stand perfectly in line putting an imaginary zipper on their lips. while she guided them down the hallway to their music class myla began to dig her hands in her pockets, feeling nothing but space on it’s insides. her heart began to sink and her mind started to race. she could’ve sworn. she could’ve sworn she asked her father for money this morning. she reached her hand into her back pockets to check but felt her ears getting hot when she realized there was nothing in those either. upon the entry way to the music classroom myla approaches adriana with tears rimming her eyes in distress. “ms. A I don’t have my money!”. she pouts with trembling lips. “you mean for the book fair?”. myla nods her head, “I can’t find it I really want to buy books”. adriana grabs the nearby tissues at the door and began softly wiping her face, “don’t worry we’re going to the book fair later on today. I’ll call your dad to see if he can bring in some money for you alright?”. myla thanks her and gives her a small hug hoping that her father could give it to her on time. “hurry to class myla”. adriana encourages, leaving myla scurrying into the music classroom with a closing door.

by the time adriana arrives back inside her classroom she was startled a little at the sound of faint movement. she wasn’t expecting yeonjun to be there looking for her. he seemed quite annoyed with her the other day after the incident so she was kind of nervous to speak to him. all her nerves went away though once she locked eyes with him and he gave her a gentle smile. “hey I forgot to give myla her money this morning for the book fair. I know she’s probably freaking out over it”. adriana smiles a little, “i was just coming in here to call you about it. she was crying and everything. she’s going to be so happy when she finds out”. yeonjun hands her an envelope with cash and adriana takes it hesitantly, yearning to address something before he disappeared. “thank you. I’ll give it back to her once the kids get back from music class. and um-- yeonjun I want to apologize for the other day. with these kids there are new issues arising everyday and i try to relieve the situation as best as possible and for some reason I didn’t think about even calling you”. yeonjun nods. “it’s alright I just get a little anxious when stuff like that happens to them. I just want to be aware. if I came off a little rude I apologize about that”. the warm smile he held at the end of every sentence made adriana blush like she was sixteen again. her eyes were elsewhere when he approached her, lifting her chin up with his hand so he could see her beautiful face clearly. once their lips aligned there was no turning back from it.

with the doors locked and shutters down yeonjun lifts her onto the desk, encasing her in the sloppiest of kisses while her arms clung around his neck in need. it felt normal, the sex between them both became the norm in whatever relationship they established. adriana wasn’t as half as embarrassed as she was the first time. instead she didn’t mind showing just how much she needed and wanted yeonjun in that moment, allowing her hand to fall to the appendage of his jeans and unbuckles them as fast as she possibly could. something in his chest swelled when adriana wrapped her hands around his hardened length and stroked him to full arousal. his hand cupped the underside of her jawline while he kissed her, allowing his tongue to roam the inside of her hot mouth. it was something about hearing yeonjun groan that pooled moisture into her panties. his groans were husky and dark, filled with nothing but lust and need. each time one escaped his throat it was more elongated than the last. the vibrations of his mouth set her body aflutter, she dug her tongue into his mouth in response exchanging saliva and rutting her hips against his leg. his fingers swept along the front of her panties until he stuck his fingers behind the elastic of them, rubbing soft circles into the swollen organ at the apex of her thighs. she began to twitch at his touch, having it been awhile since she got touched by him and was now craving it more than ever before. it took nothing for his fingers to become sticky and slick with her arousal. now she had vibrations of her own meeting his and creating a harmony of moans that only the both of them would be able to comprehend. she twists her hand up and down his length simultaneously pumping him, he felt himself rocking his hips into her hand until he felt her gushing with slick. he wanted more. he gripped her moving wrist and put her movement to a halt, whispering in between kisses. “wait a minute. let me fill you”.

his voice was soft and sincere, he maintained his mindless kisses while he reached up her skirt and dragged her panties down her thighs and finally over her ankles onto the floor beneath them. he aligned himself with her hole, teasing the head of it along her sticky folds before he actually pushes himself in, sending a sharp whine sputtering from adriana’s throat. yeonjun closes his eyes swiftly at the warm feeling of her channel clenching around his length. he too, held his mouth open with chuffs of air escaping it. their eyes were fixated on each other’s refusing to let this moment of conjoining go to waste. staring into his eyes while he was pumping himself inside of her was like another way of appreciating him and assuring him that it all felt too good for her to handle, especially since she could barely get a sound out without becoming winded at the feeling. and staring into hers was like appreciating art in it’s purest form. her gorgeous face stunned and her arousal setting a fire ablaze in his belly. he curls his fingers over the edge of the desk for support, rocking his hips inside of her while her legs were wrapped around his waist. her lips were moving against his neck but they weren’t doing much since every time he moved she’d gasp and whine. he hastened his pace and it satisfied yeonjun really, to hear her cursing softly with her head swarmed in pleasure because of him. the more he drove into her the faster the knick knacks and objects on the desk rattled against one another, adding to the sinful sounds adriana was already making beneath him. the symphony of noises spurred him on wards, making him wanting to hear more of them.

he plunges deeper, without a care in the world for who could possibly hear. he hoped anyone nearby had enough noises going on in one ear to where they couldn’t hear the breathless moans and rocking desk in the other. his strokes were rapid and by now adriana was just trying to keep herself afloat in the midst of his aggression. each time his hips slammed into her she could’ve sworn she heard another object clash from the desk to the ground. she was too far in her blissful trance to care. his cold metal necklace swept across her chest while he leans down to soak up the noises she couldn’t contain. despite the speed of his thrusts his mouth was moving lethargically against hers, appreciating the softness of her lips and how lost they made him feel each time he touched them. her body alone was like a vacation to him. her eyes, her smile, her lips, her sex-- he didn’t have to worry about anything else coming to mind when she was around. her nails clawed into his shoulder blades as another stapler went crashing down on the floor beside them, probably now broken but none of that was adriana’s business at the moment. her body was trembling, a hot feeling surged through her veins and spread through the circumference of her neck making her convulse. her tiny moans and needy noises went directly into the curvature of his neck. it felt as though a star was bursting inside of her, an overwhelming sensation rippled through her body as the head of his length touched her spot over and over again until she was secreting down her thighs and his. “fuckkk”. yeonjun breathes winded, having to fuck through her gush of a mess so he could cum too.

adriana didn’t want to seem clingy while they were finally dressing themselves but in a way she felt closer to yeonjun. she wanted more of him and not just in a sexual way. after her last relationship she promised herself that she wouldn’t take chances with any men for a while but yeonjun seemed different. so different. only, she didn’t know how to strike a good enough conversation to indicate that she wanted to take things further. buckling his jeans and fixing his now wrinkled shirt yeonjun took a deep breath and spoke softly finally executing his thoughts. “adriana before I leave I want your number. if that’s alright with you”. before she felt herself get excited she calmed down thinking that maybe, this could be him using her as a booty call. she didn’t want to get her hopes up. “yes that’s fine, i don’t mind that”. she takes a pen and writes her digits down on a sticky note and hands it to him.

yeonjun takes another deep breath. “and um- my kids are spending the night with my parents on friday night. I was wondering if maybe--you were free you’d want to go out?”. adriana bites her lips and yeonjun could tell she was thinking. he quickly speaks up. “not to have sex or anything. unless that’s what you want but i guess I’m trying to ask you on a date? do you want to go on a date with me? it’s okay for you to say no. it’s no pressure I was just wondering”. adriana laughs at his nervousness. she thought she was the pathetic one for always getting nervous around him and now here he was, a fidgeting mess. “yes yeonjun. I’d love to go on a date with you”. he smiles. “wait really?”. she throws her arms in the air. “yeah why not? why are you so shocked?”. well, yeonjun realized it’s been a while since a real woman was actually into him. of course he didn’t want to admit that to adriana. he shook his head instead. “I don’t know I guess I just wasn’t expecting you to say yes. so maybe I can pick you up at your place at like 8 maybe? I can text you the details”. adriana chuckles at how awkward he was about it. “yes 8 is fine. you’re more than welcome to text me. now go to work yeonjun”. yeonjun laughs realizing he was making a fool out of himself. he turned to leave. “okay I’ll leave. I’ll text you”. adriana waves. “please do!”. if and only if, adriana’s door shutters weren’t up yeonjun probably would’ve done a happy dance in the hallway if he could.

#yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun smut #yeonjun fanfic #single father au #smut au

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retrievablememories · 4 years

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fool me once | ten (m)

title: fool me once pairing: ten x black!reader genre: smut request: “Hi I’m new to your page and I just wanted to say I love your writing so much and I’ve started writing my own because of you🥺and also if requests are still open can you do a black Poc with Ten and she does a prank on Ten which ends up with her ass up and face down or anything with Ten being a dom🤭” word count: 2.7k warnings: dom!male, sub!female, fingering, orgasm denial, spanking, use of restraints, use of vibrator, overstimulation, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay, dirty talk a/n: i planned to write this one later, but i needed to get this off my chest now because it was haunting me lmao. don’t try any of these pranks at home 🚫

Playing pranks on your boyfriend is one of your favorite pastimes. Maybe to your own detriment.

You’d been messing with him all week, but mostly because you hadn’t seen him in a while, and in your reasoning, it was your way of showing him how much you missed him. Some people’s love language involves buying gifts and writing sweet poems for their loved ones; yours just happened to involve getting on your boyfriend’s nerves.

He wasn’t very happy when you tricked him into eating an Oreo with toothpaste in the middle instead of cream. Or when you hid one shoe in every pair he owns so he had to leave the house in mismatched ones. He was even less amused when you wrapped his entire car in saran wrap the night before he was supposed to go meet up with the WayV members.

You’d been wondering when it would happen, almost certain that the saran wrap prank would take him over the edge, but Ten finally hits a breaking point after your latest idea. This time, you invited him to come over to your house and left the door unlocked for him to get in by himself.

You listen quietly from the doorway as you hear him pulling into the driveway and coming up the front walkway, your hand over your mouth to stop your giggles from bursting out. You rush into the kitchen before he comes in.

The only thing Ten can register as he opens the door is what looks like a dozen spiders jumping out at him, which makes him scream and fall back on the porch. He trips as he jumps back, which causes him to bust his ass and go rolling down the porch steps. When he manages to get himself upright again, he notices one of your neighbors watching the spectacle from their yard, looking at him like he’s a complete fool.

You watch it all happen from your spot where you crouch in the kitchen doorway, laughing the entire time. Ten stumbles back to the entryway and quickly realizes the “spiders” are just a row of fake toys glued to a clear string, and he rips it off the top of the door. When he spots you, you laugh even louder at his red face and upset expression. “Y/N! What the fuck is this?!”

Ten slams the door shut behind him and throws his bag to the floor, and you immediately take off when you see him coming towards you. All you hear is his feet hitting the floor as he chases you through the kitchen and up the stairs. You duck into your bedroom and try to slam the door to slow him down, but he pushes his way in before you can even think about locking it and ends up wrestling you to the bed.

“Ow! Quit manhandling me, you’re so mean!”

“I’m mean? You’ve been tormenting me with this shit for days now!”

Ten manages to get you on your stomach and put his weight on you, then begins searching underneath your pillow for something. When he finds it, he pulls it out triumphantly and ties your hands behind your back with it—your own headscarf. You can guess that he’s chosen it because he knows you won’t struggle too hard against it, not wanting to rip the material. “This is so fucked up,” you say breathlessly, though you’ve yet to stop laughing.

“You’ll find out real quick that you can’t always get away with everything.” He resituates himself so he can pull you over his lap and grab a handful of your ass, and you already know what’s coming. Still, when he pulls back and spanks you, you yelp from the shock of it. There is a part of you, though, that enjoys the feeling of it—of his hand coming down hard on your ass, leaving a sharp sting even through the fabric of your shorts.

He makes you count to 20, which leaves your ass burning fiercely by the end of his punishment. When Ten feels you’ve had enough, he strips your shorts and underwear off together, caressing your stinging skin with an unexpected gentleness. You know him well enough to understand that there’s something else on the other side of this merciful behavior, though, and you try to brace yourself for whatever that might be.

As you thought, Ten nudges your thighs apart a tad wider, and that touch is all the forewarning you get before two of his fingers are knuckle-deep in you. You gasp and tremble against his body at the sudden stretch and pleasure of him pushing his way inside you. Your toes curl from it, and you try to draw ragged breaths as he fingerfucks you, thrusting into your tender g-spot. He’s always known exactly where to strike to weaken all your defenses.

“Tennn, this isn’t fair…” Your arm muscles ache from their positioning and from you trying to resist the urge to struggle against your bonds.

“You think this isn’t fair? We’ve barely started.”

There isn’t much you can do except lie across his lap and take what he’s giving you, whimpering quietly all the time. Unfortunately for you, what he gives you turns out not to be as much as you thought it’d be. It doesn’t take long for that familiar tightening in your abdomen to start, and you push your hips up more, trying to reach that peak faster. Ten doesn’t cave to your desires, though, and stills inside you, letting you clench fruitlessly around his fingers.

“Please don’t stop,” you moan, though your imminent relief is already slipping away from you.

“You’ll come when I decide you should, Y/N.”

When your pleasure has dropped down from its former peak, Ten begins moving his fingers in you again, building you right back up. He pulls them out at one point to rub your clit, making your muscles tense and release as he massages that oversensitive part of you. The way his graceful fingers circle around your pearl makes your head swim, and you have to try not to drool a bit from the ecstasy of it.

This time you keep yourself as quiet as possible as you get nearer, not wanting him to find out you’re about to come and stopping it again. That doesn’t work though—of course. He knows you better than that. As soon as you think you might actually get to come, he pulls his hand away from you yet again. You twist around impatiently on his lap, which makes him slap your ass.

“Stop being such a brat and behave for once. Do you think I’m gonna give you my dick with you acting like this?”

You keep your lips pressed together, some part of you not wanting to let him have the upperhand even though he’s already long had it. You have to open your mouth to scream, though, when he spanks you harder than before.

“Answer me, Y/N.” The sound of his demanding voice makes you twitch around his fingers, and you’re sure he can feel it.

“I-I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Ten removes his wet fingers from you and rearranges your body on the bed stomach-down. You sigh deeply, still upset at getting no orgasm, but you let him maneuver you however he likes. He pulls your hips up so your head is resting on the pillow and your ass is offered up to him.

“Arch your back for me,” he says, his hand pressing against the small of your back. You moan softly at his words, doing as he asks.

You can’t see what he’s doing behind you, but you hear him moving around. Your body jerks at the sudden feeling of his dick sliding through your lower lips.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” His tip teases you but doesn’t enter, and you’re almost ready to shout with how pent-up and frustrated you are, though you also know doing that will only make things harder for you.

“I’ll be good,” you say quietly.

Ten spanks you on a sore spot, which makes your legs shake a bit as you try to hold your positioning. “I couldn’t hear you.”

Your voice trembles as you speak louder. “I promise I’ll be good, just, please…”

“Please what? Do you want to drag this out all night?”

“Please fuck me.”

There’s no concealing the groan that comes from your lips after he finally decides to settle himself inside you, especially with it being so long since you’ve felt him properly. You want to push back on him, but he holds your hips still. Your hands twist aimlessly, wishing you could feel him under your fingertips.

His first thrusts are not very fast but more forceful than anything, making your skin slap together loudly. Your forehead is shining with sweat as you try to keep your breathing even, though it’s hard to inhale properly between the noises spilling from you.

“If only the neighbors could hear you right now. Should we open the window so they can listen to you scream my name?”

“Fuck, d-don’t.” You can’t tell whether he’s being serious or not, but you don’t want to take the chance. You’re too busy savoring his deep thrusts inside you, his tip rubbing against your tender spot.

“Don’t lie.” Ten’s hand creeps to the back of your neck, tugging at your hair—only gently, though, as he knows not to go yanking shit. Still, the extra stimulation at your nape makes you cry out. “You like embarrassing me in front of the neighbors; why don’t I embarrass you?” When he quickens his pace, you find it impossible to keep quiet, begging him to please let you cum this time.

“I’m gonna come, Ten, p-please, let me…” Your words turn to babbling even as you try to keep your mind straight. The pleasure clouding your brain lessens, though, when he slows his thrusts a bit. You think he’s going to edge you again, and you nearly sob from frustration.

“Mmm….should I?” The way he moves his hips into you is fluid like water, the smooth rocking motion of it more than enough to make up for the slower pace. “Do you deserve to come?”

It takes you a few moments to get your voice stable enough to reply, especially with him still fucking into you the entire time. Your orgasm is looming on the horizon despite him insistently denying you, and you hope that he’ll give you permission. Either way, you don’t think you can hold it back anymore. “Y-yes, I’ve been a good g-girl. Just like you t-told me to. Please....”

Ten smirks from behind you, though you can’t see this. “Then let me feel you. Come on me, baby.”

His free hand slips to your clit and this is enough to tip the scales for you, a pure flood of euphoria running through your veins and enveloping your nerves. He keeps his other hand in your hair so you won’t try to muffle your noises in the pillow, and you’re left to cry and pant his name into the air, your speech quickly becoming incoherent.

Ten spills deeply into you not long after your own end, holding himself there and letting his cum paint your inner walls while a litany of pretty moans cascades from his lips. When he pulls out, he quickly pushes his fingers into you again, making you pant desperately, unsure whether to push closer to his probing hand or pull away from the overstimulation.

You don’t have to think about it too long, because he soon takes them back out and shuffles up the bed to be at eye-level with you. You let your bottom half sink back to the mattress, feeling incredibly well-fucked. While staring into your eyes, Ten pushes his wet fingers against your lips—the ones still covered in both of your fluids. You willingly accept them, and he watches as you clean everything up.

You’re getting sleepy now, and you lie prone as you let Ten untie your scarf and set your wrists free, finally. He massages the skin there, which is a little indented from the fabric. Your eyes drift closed as he does this. You don’t think of anything suspicious when you feel him turning you on your back; nor do you bother to open your eyes when you hear the bedside drawer opening.

He shuffles around on the bed some more, and it’s only when you hear a familiar buzzing do your eyes fly open. Ten sits there in front of you holding your Hitachi wand like it’s a threat.

“We’re not finished yet.”

“You can’t be serious,” you say, your heart rate picking up again as he slips his way down your body. “Ten, I don’t think I can take anymore—” Your legs shake involuntarily when he presses the round tip of the vibrator against your clit, and you gasp loudly. He situates himself neatly between your legs to keep them open as he presses two of his fingers into you. He momentarily removes them to slide them through your lower lips and across your clit, using your combined cum as lube to make the vibrator move against you more smoothly.

Soon, Ten’s back inside you like he never left, hooking his fingers into your g-spot and circling the vibrator over your clit in a tight rhythm. You grasp at the pillow and sheets beneath you, trying to hold onto some sense of stability as he pushes your oversensitive body even further. Your whole being is electrified, your hips arching and legs twisting recklessly as Ten gives you more than what you think you can handle.

The sound of him fingering you is magnified by all the slick between your legs and his own cum, and it makes a mess of the sheets as he does. He’s mostly unphased by all your moving around, keeping the vibrator on you and his index and middle fingers deep inside you as you plead for him. You try to bite your shirt to silence yourself, but it doesn’t do much good to quiet you.

Something you haven’t quite felt before rises inside you as you edge closer to yet another orgasm, and you’re a little afraid of it.

“W-wait, this feels—Oh my God, I think I’m gonna—” Fueled by your cries, Ten turns the vibrator up to its next speed, which makes your legs tense up. You’re almost crying as you cum, squeezing tightly around his fingers, except there’s more gushing out of you this time. You end up wetting his forearm and the sheets underneath you from it.

Ten pushes his face into you to taste you, his tongue and the vibrator working you over and causing you to squirt again. You’re a little shocked and embarrassed about cumming on his face, though you don’t have too much thought to give to those emotions as you’re swept up in a slew of smaller orgasms.

You’re not entirely sure when it all ends, convinced you must’ve blacked out at some point. All you know is that your face is wet with tear-streaks and your body is saturated with tremors afterwards. Ten is face-to-face with you now, pulling a few pieces of hair away from your cheek.

“Are you still alive?” He laughs, though his voice is tender.

“...Just barely.”

Ten reaches for the nightstand again and your whole body reacts as you use what strength you have left to tug on his arm. “No!! I’m not kidding Ten, I’m going to die—”

Ten looks at you with amusement, holding a water bottle in your face. “I’m only getting this. You’re probably dehydrated...you squirted like, everywhere.”

Your skin warms at that. “Whose fault is that?” you say tiredly, glaring at him, though you accept the water when he puts the bottle to your lips.

Ten gives you a small smile and runs his finger along the bridge of your nose. “Think about that the next time you try to play a prank on me.”

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yoitscro · 3 years

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I still haven’t watched the video...BUT.

While I’m still of the belief that Sarah Z probably shouldn’t have posted some “rise and fall” video on Homestuck --which uses the traction of 4/13, a positive day for a fandom that likes to eat itself, to give attention some to criticisms involving speculative allegations-- , I’ve seen more anger from people that I frankly don’t trust being upset about it being a “hit” video to tear down WP, and jumping the gun to the point of threatening legal action, versus actually seeing casual watchers talking about the discourse; more so about nostalgia and “ah, homestuck exists still”.

I assume the paranoid jump on the video is because of casual watcher’s potential reactions? But there’s, also, more reactions toward the team’s response versus what the team + team friends were presumably worried about...so like. I guess the fire being fueled is ironically only being fueled because it’s being blown out of proportion, and thereby brought to peoples attention through *that*.

Sarah’s video is not 100% right. There are false facts from what I’ve seen briefly of. I personally don’t think that a person who’s read Homestuck but has only existed in the fandom space primarily during certain years has the same, fair perspective as a current homestuck that’s been aware of the environment going on, especially on Homestuck Twitter. Instead of things being made in 10 days, apparently, and there not being any effort to reach out to anyone on the team before presenting information, I would’ve just, you know, not done that. At least give it a shot, you literally lose nothing but avoid many things later.

The team has also faced blatant threats and harassment, which isn’t the same as other queer or poc people criticizing how homestuck handles content in their own space, but it exists. There’s certainly a reasonable, human reaction that I get, which come from the anxiety of being put on the spot by a something-thousand subscribed youtuber while you’re trying to figure things out in the background as things have been quiet, right after the turbulent year of 2020. I’ve actually been really frustrated that people haven’t considered that and that these reactions are coming out of nowhere. There is a trauma to consider since this is not the white guy taking the brute of stuff despite people using Hussie’s name as a synonym for the team.

There’s also the fact that Gio was apparently not asked to be used in the video beforehand? At least that’s what I’ve heard, which if true was an oversight, given how one may want to ask “hey, i’m making a video on your articles which could absolutely put you in the center of this since I’m using your online identity; let me get your permission at least.”

That said, based on audience reaction, and how it’s been the opposite of what a handful of people associated with officialized content expected, which is the reason things are being targeted right now, I feel like this is an...overreaction.

Again, I haven’t watched the video. But the video existing with the whispered points it’s brought up is the reason that things exploded yesterday. I’ve seen more dislikes of Sarah’s video from a loud minority who, 1. are people who refuse to ever criticize the issues with Homestuck for actual years, and 2. people who have watched 20 minutes of it and heard what they wanted to hear, versus seeing the criticism acknowledged by everyone else, outside of an acknowledged comment before moving on. The reaction is what’s giving it the most attention, actually.

Apparently in the video she mentions how she’s not trying to enable any harassment, states that somethings presented are just speculation, and doesn’t namedrop anyone specific?

That seems like a cliche way to act like someone can’t ever respond to stuff like this, but that’s usually saved for smaller followed beef on tumblr or twitter. Not a company or it’s contracted IP.

I’ve seen the people say it wasn’t that bad and have honed in on WP + acquaintance reactions versus what was said in the video. It was just something that was posted on a day where so much other 4/13 stuff was going on, which could’ve been given attention instead of one person’s video, which was apparently 2 hours long, and was already being venomously hated before one would’ve been able to watch it in full? (The idea of the anger coming from those who haven’t watched the video is...not surprising. There have been people put on blast for HS opinions for just a sentence.)

The kickstarter update’s response could’ve been posted itself, versus all the stuff prior and after it (the supposed legal action), but I honestly think that it shouldn’t have taken a breadtuber’s threat on Homestuck’s reputation for fans who ACTUALLY engage with it to have communication with what’s been going on, which we’ve been asking for for years. There’s a trust that needs to be rebuilt on both sides, be it from entitlement, elitism, or bullying, and this did not help.

I don’t like that Hussie only speaks up when a boiling point is reached, and people who work on his team are beyond gone or dealing with the fallout with how he’s neglected his IP and the fans that’ve somehow stayed to support it; crowd control and community management is important, and every other indie creator or small team on the internet who thinks ahead has been getting this. And I honestly hope that anyone who is legit having a terrible time producing HS content considers whether or not they should continue to stick around, for their own mental health.

If by a week from now we’re talking about the reaction of the video and the video itself is potentially long out of people’s mind well. That’s the point of this rant.

and on the other side, quoting a friend:

Sarah z's video didn't need to be released on a day of celebration for a healing fanbase and that video regressed that and caused the official team to have fucking public panic attacks.

Not a great 4/13, tbh.

#homestuck #sarah z #yeah so this is less about the video content and more about the reaction thats blown up more than the video.#ive always wanted wp to strive and do better...this aint it.#the glass canon has caused more issue than it set out to fix #and i get the emotional reaction but...come on.#also some of the reactions are just disingenuous; shes wrong about some trans opinions but dont erase that her trans editor wrote jade takes #not her

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alldayangst · 4 years

Text

100 letters, just for me (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. PAIRING: uni (fuckboy/frat) Tom x uni reader. Summary: ‘You wrote a hundred letters just for me / And I find them in my closet in the pockets of my jeans / Now I’m constantly reminded me of the time I was nineteen / Every single ones forgotten in a laundromat machine’.

“Walk of shame?” your friend, Camren, sat in the lounge, TV on low as Tom walked with his clothes carelessly thrown on his body, recovered hoodies and jumpers you previously stole sat in a pile as high as mountains in his hands, leading Camren to wonder whether or not it was really the end this time round. “Third time this week!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be back anytime soon.” Tom slams the door behind him as hard as he could, and just when Camren thinks they can get a moment of peace, they hear a screeching sob rip through the air through the walls of your room. And Camren swears they live in a movie; a scratched CD of a bad romantic drama, that replays the part where the lovers face their problems over and over again.

‘My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it’

You remembered the start of this debacle like it was yesterday. You and Tom were in the bathtub and Tom told you to reach inside the back pocket of your jeans, he’d left something important in there. “I’m not ready to get married, if you left a ring in there. I’m only 19.” Tom kissed your shoulder, back cold and pressed against the tub - but he’d been willing to compromise to be the crutch you leaned against, to be the haven you found refuge in. To be the hill you died on.

“It better not be a ring, Holland. I swear.”

“I’ve never met someone who didn’t want to get proposed to as much as you.” He laid his chin against your shoulder once your search become successful, and you found a strip of paper in your trouser back pocket.

“My mouth hasn’t shut up about you, since you kissed it.” You turned to Tom who could only see your face in the corner of his eye, having found a new living situation of the warm, wet slope previously called your shoulder. “Tom, what is this?”

“100 letters, just for you. You’ll find them in every pair of your jeans. I’m with you forever.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and press a hard, loving kiss on your lips, causing you to drop the tiny piece upon which Tom scribbled his message. “Just for me? You stole this from a love letter by Alex Turner to Alexa Chung!” Tom couldn’t take his love-hazed gaze off of you, and kissed you again like he was oblivious to the words you were saying or you were speaking a foreign language he didn’t understand. “You don’t stop complaining, do you?”

Six months later marked the end of yours and Tom’s gap year, and you decided to move in together off campus.

“I can’t find it.” Tom smiled as he shook his head, your orange in his hand as he sat on a stool opposite your lunchbox. He knew you had a presentation that day and was eager to impress, so you’d shoved your most sensible pair of slacks in the washing machine without a care and when Tom went to unload it, his note for you torn into tiny pieces and covered in botched ink slithered out and caplunked into a minuscule puddle on your wooden floor.

“I’m serious, you didn’t write one this time.” You rummaged through your blazer pockets just to check for certain you were right before you turned to Tom with every bit of confidence that he’d truly forgotten to write you a little love letter this time around.

Tom placed the orange back into the fruit basket and opted for a tomato instead. He took note of the shock in your face and the wince you made as he juggled it, and it drew dangerously close to the ground. “Tom, don’t juggle that. If it hits the ground, it will splatter everywhere.” Tom giggled.

“Have you checked your slacks?”

“You think I haven’t checked my trousers?” You turned your trouser pockets inside out with the flare of pride.”You’ve forgotten. It’s OK, Tom.”

You opened your lunchbox to place your orange in, but a piece of red card occupied the compartment usually owed to your snacks.

You held the card up: “I love you from my head tomatoes.” Tom chuckled cheekily, not watching as the tomato rolled off the counter and depicted a large, red splatter on the kitchen floor. But Tom promised he would clean it up.

Tom didn’t forget about writing one love letter, until he did. And by that point, his letters had felt almost as autonomous as the days of the week. You didn’t even have to think about it, they just went by. So you’d be raking through every end of the house, expecting to find his letter.

“Tom, where’s the letter?”

“Huh? I don’t know.” Tom locked the door as if he’d been chased by wolves, looking up and down through the peephole and then giving a satisfied lick of the lip.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“As in, I don’t know - you’d have to look for it darling.”

Little did he know that’s what you spent your whole day doing. And you hadn’t found anyone with sharper eyes or a bigger will to find it for you.

You didn’t find the note that night. You didn’t know there wasn’t any.

“I found one! ‘You’re my happy place’.” Huh. Tom hadn’t written a new one in a while. He must have put a note in both of the pockets in this pair of jeans. These jeans had been tossed aside, barely worn, in fact - never worn since you’d tried them out in the dressing room at the store two months ago. You were in awe of how young love could take you so far, and kissed the tired Tom that laid beside you. You pulled back and caressed his cheek.

“Why didn’t you kiss back?” You asked, too drunk on ignorant bliss to acknowledge the warning signs and the parade of red flags that told you to leave before you got truly hurt. “M’ just tired.” And it showed. His hair was matted, clad to his face, a few shades darker that it usually was due to all the sweat. He took in every breath like he’d never breathed before and kept watering at the eye; the kind of cry you did when even the fatigue wouldn’t let you sleep.

It was inevitable. Three months later, you and Tom broke up. You were freshly twenty, and freshly out of a relationship. Tom moved out of your shared apartment, and you found yourself trying to navigate university with a compass that seemed to only point South. You never had to have friends here before, because you had Tom. It was out of sheer luck that you stumbled upon Camren who not only shared your soul and your mind, but agreed to share your home. Tom Holland quickly became synonymous with London nightlife and out of reluctance to let you go (call it withdrawal symptoms), requested that you continue to see each other as long as romance was left out of the equation. You’d happily obliged and incessantly kept a cobweb-covered carousel going years after it stopped being the main attraction. On the nights you left with Tom, Camren was tossed aside, forgotten like coat in a cloakroom, so it was only fair game that they’d tease and whine at you when Tom left in the morning. If Tom left in the morning.

Tom was ravenous, and you ended up on Camren’s nest of a sofa. “I love the bones off you.” he muttered, and Tom was perhaps too keen to grab a handful of your backside, he docked both hands into both your pockets, fingernails scrambling at little torn pieces of paper. His heart went into panic mode. He squirmed to get out. The piece of paper landed beside you as he forcefully yanked his hands out, feeling like a prisoner freed to a world that was only half of what it was before.

‘I’d be a crazy, blind man to ever leave you.’

The room fell silent. Maybe with Camren’s TV on low, you didn’t have the space to have these moments. To stop indulging in the highs of life and really examine why the lows were the lows.

“Tom. I’m demanding honesty.”

Tom sighs. He’s so different these days, so cold. He unentangles your bodies and huffs and puffs like a little kid who hasn’t gotten their way. This, before you’d even said anything. You don’t know if you can deal with this white noise.

“I just want to know why we broke up.”

Tom chooses to look at the artwork opposite the couch, because his safe place is no longer his safe place. Because now that you’re demanding honesty, instead of taking it when it comes, his happy place becomes his vulnerable. Tom didn’t like to be vulnerable. It’s why he ended things in the first place.

“Well, we’re in uni..” Tom’s not sure if he wants to continue. He can feel the spotlight on him, you looking at him. He’s center stage but not one for attention. He’s suddenly painfully aware of the fragility of his answer, and worries it will go ‘splat!’ and make like a tomato, and then you’ll really never speak to him again. He furrows his brows as he looks down into his lap, twiddling and pulling at his fingers as if they had the answer (they used to) before he says it in the best way he knows how, your eyes boring into him. “We’re at uni, and there’s so many beautiful women and handsome men, and mighty attractive human beings walking around here, and it’s hard to believe one person you met at a stupid age could compare to the pool of people that are here.”

And how it sounds in Tom’s head, how he meant it is so much better to the way it sounds and means to you. Because words like ‘compare’ and ‘pool of people’ highlight how insignificant and worthless Tom felt he was to you. He felt he communicated how he insecure he was feeling. To you? Words like ‘comapre’ only shine a torch on your own insecurities and phrases like ‘pool of people’ makes you contemplate whether Tom was ever unfaithful, and it made you feel insignificant, worthless.

“So, I’m definitely not the only person in your life right now.” Tom looks up and before he can say anything- “I’m not something you can butter up and taste when you get bored.”

“Y/N.” Tom starts. “That would never be the way I could see you.”

“I’d like you to leave, Tom.”

And leave he does.

Two weeks later, you and Camren found yourself in a predicament. “Can you get it out?” Camren had their hand down the drain of your bathtub. Cautiously, they launched two fingers in. “Can you get it out?” You asked again, nibbling lightly on the tip of your nails out of nervousness.

“Honestly, it doesn’t feel that big.” Camren stops their search after hooking their finger around the culprit of which blocked your plughole. “It’s a piece of fucking paper.” Camren sighs a breath of relief. “My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it.”

You breathe in.

Credit for the gif goes to: /dreamyyholland

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nightshade-anura · 4 years

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Rachel, Bianca and Octavian never really did anything wrong, so please stop hating on them for one second.

(Although it's nice to see white characters getting hate for just existing rather than poc characters, for once.)

Rachel:

You have no clue how much this one annoys me, and it's amplified by the fact that 90% of Rachel hate is from Annabeth stans. She literally just had a crush on Percy, then went out with him?! Y'all Annabeth stans get crushes on Percy all the time, then hate on her when she does? If you can't stand on one side of a line, then don't draw it in the first place. It's that simple.

In addition, when you look at her relationship with Annabeth, Rachel rarely (hell, maybe not at all) is the one to start arguments or insult her. Rachel seems pretty chill in her relationship with Percy, and then when Annabeth starts dating him instead, do you know what she does? She gets on with her life. Considering the amount of hate Annabeth gave her for dating Percy, she 100% is entitled to do the same, but she doesn't. She knows when a fight isn't worth having. And it's not like she doesn't like Percy, anymore, either. The way she acts suggests she doesn't really get over him until toa, meaning she goes more than an entire series suppressing the urge to bite back.

Bianca:

The main reason people give Bianca hate is because she 'abandoned' Nico to join the hunters. First off, let's be real, 90% of us would've done exactly the same thing. Joining the Hunters of Artemis is an opportunity she probably would've never gotten again, and she wasn't exactly given much time to think it over. She clearly wanted it, too. A younger sibling weighing you down shouldn't be the reason you deny your dreams (no matter how much of an avid Nico stan I am).

Because she was a few years older than Nico, Maria's death would've had a lot more of a negative impact on her, and not knowing who she was mourning would've made it ten times worse. From the way she acts before she joins the hunters, she was genuinely still mourning her, but suppressing it for Nico's sake. It's little details you can pick up on such as the fact that she is very quite and a little uneasy around people besides Nico. By comparison, Nico is very excitable and enthusiastic. When Greek mythology is mentioned, Bianca becomes very uncomfortable and is very quick to deny it's existence. I suspect this triggers her memories slightly of Hades, and she obviously would not like him very much after he essentially abandoned them when Maria died (that's what abandonment actually looks like). I like to think that Nico hadn't completely registered the fact that his mother was genuinely dead before their memories were wiped, hence why this doesn't affect them.

Bianca probably is going to try to isolate herself from her parentage, and one of the quickest ways of doing this is to join the hunters. If you're an older sibling like me, then you'll also know that a younger sibling's very existence can be embarrassing at times. Of course she'll want to isolate herself from her entire family. Not to mention the fact that she has been single parenting Nico since Maria died, again, thanks to a Greek God, the likes of which she already doesn't want to associate herself with. Before you complain that Artemis, too, is a Greek God, her whole thing is not needing men? Oh, would you look at that: the whole reason Maria is dead is because she fell for Hades, and Zeus was a dick about it. Joining the hunters is most definitely going to help her cope with the fact that Hades and Zeus are arseholes (Hades not so much, but Bianca will see him as more of one, considering she was essentially betrayed after Maria died).

Lastly, Bianca wasn't abandoning Nico. They had both just been told if a safe place they could go due to their parentage, and therefore Bianca had just been told that Nico would be safe. She wasn't to know that he would run away. Whilst he had a kinda valid excuse, it was still on their hands. Bianca had no control over that. It's not like she wasn't looking out for him, either; she literally went out of her way to collect the Hades statue for them, which was penultimately the reason she died (sorry). She knew the risks, and outright sacrificed her life just to make Nico happy.

Octavian:

You're all going to hate me for this one, I know. Just hear me out.

The only reason you all hate him is because he stabbed Percy's pillow pet, and was a bit of a dick to Hazel. Whilst neither Percy nor Hazel should've had to put up with this, when you consider what we can assume about his past, and that it actually makes sense. Straight away, he's a year round camper, so there is a high chance that he's lost one or multiple parents (remember that he's a descendant of Apollo, not than a child of Apollo). He probably hasn't had much of an opportunity to grieve them, strikingly similar to Nico's reaction at the end of ttc, particularly when you consider how strict Camp Jupiter is. Not to mention, it's been proven time after time again that if someone can't control their own life, they will put extra emphasis on what they can control, the two major ones being their eating and the people around them.

That last bit brings me onto my second point. You get the impression that he has been through quite a lot, so of course he tries to control the people around him as a means to cope. He becomes so engulfed in this desire to control everyone that he doesn't consider how it might affect others. From his perspective, why should he? No one seemed to care about him. It doesn't occur to him that blackmailing Hazel is- well- blackmail. He becomes so determined to prove himself, despite not being a child of a Roman God, but a descendant. As you can imagine, when he first joined, the camp probably looked down on him quite a lot.

In fact, he seems to be so aware of the Camp's protocols, there is a high chance that he, like Jason, has been there most of his life. When you consider it's principles, it makes sense that his main goal would be to reach the top of the pecking order. That is the way that they are taught; they're Roman demigods, after all.

Before you start on the killing of Percy's pillow pet being unfair, I'd just like to point a few things out. Yes, it was a bit if a dick move, but Percy had just waltzed into a camp, been claimed as a son of a major (although frowned upon) God, and threatened his authority. Octavian was genuinely scared of him. He was probably 100% aware that stabbing his pillow pet would do nothing, but did he look like he cared? Not only was he trying to back up his authority in doing so, it was essentially sending a message to Percy of "if you dare threaten my position, you'll face a lot worse than this. Whilst it may have been a bit of an overreaction, honestly, fair enough.

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jonah-aesthetic · 4 years

Text

That One Pt. 2 I Jonah Marais

Jonah Marais X Reader / Ivette X Daniel Seavey

Plot: After Jonah Takes Y/n to his favourite ice cream parlour and takes care of her. She’s conflicted on her feelings for him, is he who everyone thinks he is? Or is he hiding himself from the world?

Word Count: 5K+

Author’s Note: More POC characters and pictured links. Sawyer may or may not be in this one. I feel like this part wasn’t good, but enjoy. Not edited.

Rating: 16+

Part 1

________________

Mentally preparing yourself for the aimless flirting you let a sigh leave your lips.Turing toward him, your breath hitched as you looked up into his green. predatory smirk etched into his pink lips, you wanted them on yours. Nope you mentally hissed at yourself, you didn’t you couldn’t. That’s what you told yourself because you did want him. every inch of him tangled within you. But you couldn’t give him that satisfaction, so you bite at his ego every chance you got. Jonah was after you, everywhere you seemed to go he fell into your path.

“Babe? Really?” Glaring him town, didn’t seem to work since he held a few inches from you.

“You love it, now lets get you home.” His hand is gentle resting between your shoulder blades. Beginning to guide you to the door, swerving you through the crowd making sure no one bumped into you. “What if I don’t want to leave?” The alcohol in your veins doing the talking for you.

“I didn’t think you did, Ivette has Daniel.” Jonah states still walking you do the door. You sighed in response, he was right you didn’t want to stay here if it wasn’t with Ivette. And frankly you didn't mind leave especially with your aching feet still in those heels.

“Leaving so soon?” Julie’s sickly sweet voice was recognisable anywhere. You immediate turned at the first word, Jonah in tow following your every move like it was his job.

Julie wasn’t alone, two others flanked her side. You met them before at brunch a few weeks ago. Rachel on her right, gleaming with her beautiful Korean features. Savannah on her left, beaming with her fiery red hair.

Julie had on the exact replica of your dress, but hers was a crisp white. Gorgeous contrast against her mahogany skin, “Yeah I’m not feeling it, Jonah is giving me a ride home.” Your tone innocent as you smiled at them. He leaned into your side at the mention of his name, His arm now snaking around your waist in a protecting manner. Shuddering you felt the need to push him away, but not in the presence of her.

“So the rumours are true, you two are together?” The prodding question came from Rachel. Watching the way Jonah clung onto you, maybe it was an excuse to hold you and maybe it wasn't.

“I would of never pegged you two together.” Savannah chokes on a laugh. Where was Ivette when you needed her?

“It’s the unlikely to fall in love. Isn't it?” Jonah asks, almost making your eye balls pop out of their sockets. Yet you still held eye contact with Julie hoping she didn’t see the way you just slipped up.

“Yes I guess it is.” Julie stares you down, trying to uncover the lie wrapping in the truth. Rachel and Savannah sharing curious glances, shit.

“Have a good night Julie, I know I sure will.” You mange to get out, blaming it on the liquor still hanging in. Surprised etched into their features watching the way Jonah guided you for the door again.

“Glad to see that your chicken pox cleared nicely!” Julie hollered from behind both of you, halting in your tracks, Jonah walked right into you.

“They did, thanks.” You choked on the words in your throat, not sure on how to reply to her.

Jonah helped you into the passenger’s seat of his Jeep. Thanking him you slid into the leather seat and rested your back against it. He shut the Jeep door, eyes connecting with his for a brief moment before he jogged to the drivers side. Collecting himself inside looking to you, distracted by the phone in your hands. Seeing no message from Trey still, why would their be? It’s 3:09am.

“What?” You ask finally noticing his stare,

“Chicken pox?” He asks amused,

“It’s a long story, due for another time.” You curse yourself for implying you wanted to see him again.

“I knew you wanted to see me again.” He teases turning the key in the ignition, the jeep wakes and begins to roll. Lurching forward as Jonah presses on the gas. Balancing his foot off the clutch, smooth enough for there not to be a jerk in the motion of the Jeep.

“Thank you, for going along in there. I don’t think Julie likes me that much.” You change direction of the conversation. Jonah’s cologne reaching your nose, cinnamon and honey. Not an ounce of alcohol lingering in, you smile lightly. It must of been pop whirling in that cup of his earlier.

“Julie palekin, never liked her much. The money her daddy has morphs her personality. “ Jonah says, gripping the steering wheel firmly, switching gears with the climbing speed. Green eyes on the road, glancing at you every so often. “I didn’t mind playing your boyfriend again. I’m getting good at it don’t you think?” The smirk is back onto his lips, teasing you till you die must of been his mission.

“This is the last time, Marais.” You say now turning your attention towards the window. Sky pitch black, littering with beautiful stars. Watching the street signs as Jonah passes them. Staying quite noticing you wanted and only the hum of the radio was heard.

Gale

Peterson

Everett

Boston

Instead of making a left turn towards campus Jonah turns the Jeep right, into the city. You sit up confused, eyes holding worry as you felt the anxiety creep in. “You’re going the wrong way.” you note, looking at Jonah, “Relax I know where I’m going.” He says humorously watching the way you reacted.

“Where are we going exactly?”

“You’ll see.” his voice calming

Less then ten minutes later Jonah pulls the Jeep into a deserted parking lot. Chocolate spot was written in glowing brown lettering a top the building. Glowing light poured through the windows indicating it was still open. Parking he cut the engine. Turning to Jonah, he had this intoxicating smile, one you hadn’t seen before. Nothing like the wolfish smirk that was always plastered on his lips.

“Where are we?” You asked cautiously,

“ if you read the letters, that with probably give you a hint.”

“Funny, I meant what exactly is the chocolate spot?” Curiosity dripping in your words.

“An ice cream parlour, now hurry up or l’ll leave you here. Fair warning Cheryl has a mean alarm.” Jonah says before climbing out of the vehicle, who is cheryl?

You sigh for the millionth time thinking it was best to follow him. Rather then wait for his slow ass in the car. By yourself at 3;30 in the morning. Before you could reach for the handle the door opened for you. Causing the lights in the car to flash on again. Looking up you were met with Jonah’s beaming face.

“I can open the door myself.” You whisper pointedly at him, green eyes watching as you tried to move your legs. Seething at the burning sensation blossoming onto the pads on your feet. With the adrenaline and the fading affect of the liquor, you felt the entire pain that these high heels endured.

“What?” Jonah’s voice holding concern, as he came to your side to aid you in any way he could. Too blind from the pain you hadn’t noticed how close he was willingly to get. Breath mingling with yours.

“Heels,” You mustered through you teeth.

Without another word Jonah knelled in front of you, moving your knees towards him to have your legs dangling out of the jeep. “Ouch!” You yelped at the sudden bolt of pain rushing up your legs, “Sorry.” Jonah mumbled before his warm hands started working on the buckle around your ankle. Jonah’s eyebrows knitted together, concentrating on the task at hand.

You watched him, wondering what it’d feel like to rake a hand through those curls. What it’d feel like to read a book and have his head tuck safely in your lap.

Unclasping the buckle he firmly gripped the back of your calf. His other hand on the bottom of the heel as he soft removed the death trap you called a shoe. Pulling the straps out of various wounds, opening the cuts. You seethed gripping the door frame of the jeep till your knuckled turned white. “Fuck. you’re bleeding. How did you manage to walk out of there without twisting your ankle?” He asks looking up at you, placing the heel on the floor of the vehicle.

“Adrenaline and alcohol.” You say with a shrug.

“That’s it.”

“Yes.”

He didn’t respond only stared at you for a little longer. Then his attention on the other cages foot, Doing the same. But this time he counted down from three before removing the shoe. Giving you time to mentally prepare yourself of the stinging yank. “There, your cute little toes are free, Although they’re sporting some nasty battle wounds.” Jonah smiled before standing up again, your feet feeling free and light as ever.

“My hero, what would I do without you?” You asked mimicking a princess, not thinking.

“No need to thank me m’lady it was all my pleasure.” Jonah plays along and bows to you in the process, you both burst into a fit of laughter. Enjoying the way they meld together perfectly. The laughing died out as your mind wandered off

Stop, don’t give in. Not to Jonah Marais. But this guy in front of you didn’t feel like that Jonah everybody knew. The one who go himself into heavy trouble giving him those brutal bruises you forgot about. The one who had everyone falling at his feet, the one who goes through them like it was a damn race. This kindness he was giving you was a trick. It had to be right?

“Let me help you out,” Jonah offers his hand out to you. Spotting gorgeous ink crawl up into his sleeve. You nod too sacred your mouth would betray you. Placing your hand in his, warm sensation worked it’s way up and you fought the urge to pull away. You grip stead in Jonah’s giving a small smile before you started to jump.

Your feet never hit the cold paved ground, Jonah crouched capturing you in his arms. He groaned lightly as you screeched in his ear unaware of his devious plan. One arm against your back and another under you legs in a bridal style manor. He chuckled at the way you reacted to him, wide eyed as your heart thumped wildly in your chest.

“If I told you, you would’ve bite my head off.” He explained himself, closing the jeep door with his back. With a loud honk, it locked.

You only glared at him because he was right. You would’ve objected the idea of him carrying you inside. Would’ve risk infection then agree to be in his arms, especially with the intoxication. You didn’t trust yourself this close to him, where you breathe danced with his, where you could feel the steady beat of his heart. Where you could feel his words vibrate within his chest.

Walking inside you were memorised by the place, you could easily tell the theme was retro. The floors were tiled black and white like a chess board. Both the booths and chair were a pastel teal and pink. Down the aisle of the tables was a vintage jukebox, teal and pink neon lights ran along it.

“Jonah my boy! Come in! Come in!” The words covered in a french accent. Behind the counter stood and older man, short and pudgy. Black hair with bits of grey sprinkling in, dark brown eyes resembled the earth. A bright smile towards the both of you.

“Hello to you too Marcel.” Jonah chuckles walking to the counter,

Marcel’s smile became brighter as he spots you in Jonah’s arms. Eye’s sparkling, “Oh who is this sweet thing? Must be your girlfriend.” It was more of a statement then a question, “No, Marcel this is y/n, she’s just a friend.” Jonah explained and you swore you could here the drop in his voice.

Jonah Finally places you into a cotton candy booth. After shows you all the ice cream choices behind the glass casing. Ordering and catching up with Marcel which didn’t seem to be much as he seemed to come her often. Almost as if he knew the parlour like the back of his hand.

The leather began to stick to the backs of your thighs, bare feet on the cool marble floor. You over hear Jonah asking for the first aid kit as you looked around the place a little more. Noticing a group of younger kids, laughing and leaning into each other, show each other videos from their phones. Probably fourteen or fifteenth. Another couple sat at a centre table, beautiful smiles as they talked. Must of been one of those deep conve-

“Jesus Jonah!” You hiss at him,

The sting ran up your nerves, scrunching up your face as you tried to yank your foot from his death grip. It only tightened making sure your foot didn’t slip. You wondered how he’d react if you kicked him with your free foot, on to his ass.

His expression bored and slightly irritated, holding a cotton ball drenched in rubbing alcohol above the cut. It gleamed bright red from the light above, vaguely cleaned.

“Stop being a wuss and let me disinfect.”

“It fucking Burns Marais!”

“I know.”

“Give me some sympathy.”

He sighs, placing a cotton ball down a small serving plate Marcel donated for the cause. Jonah reached into his back pocket, his eyes never straying from your. “Here.” He places a black bandanna that has seen better days then this in your hand. You grimace and look at him, “What’s this?” you mumble. He rolls his eyes at you, “Just bite down on it! It’ll help with the pain.And before you ask yes it’s clean.”

You shrug, what did you have to lose? Folding the tattered fabric you did as told. you gave Jonah a thumbs up and an eager nod like you were ready for war. He shakes his head and chuckles, thinking you were the cutest thing this world had to offer.

Did he always have a piece of material rotting in his butt pocket for situation like this? If so, where the hell was it ten minutes ago?

You whimper into the cloth. Feeling the burning returning as he began disinfecting your wounds again. He glanced up for a few seconds seeing he discomfort in your eyes. Then the focus back on your foot.

You watched him. The way he took care of you within the last hour, you were surprised he was still single. He serenaded girls left and right with is band and his gentle touch. He never got to you, what was the point if it was just a night? what was the point if it didn’t turn into something more? Yet with all these thoughts you wanted him but you kept telling yourself no. Wha-

No. You blamed the thoughts on the alcohol still swimming in your system.

By the time Jonah finished each cut and bandaged them, Marcel brought your ice cream cups. Sliding them across the table with an innocent smile, capturing yours you stared in awe at your favourite flavour. Confusion etched into your eyebrows though, the ice cream behind the glass was hard and this was soft ice cream.

“Marcel mixes in a little bit of milk before blending it. And out comes this delicious soft ice cream.” Jonah moans sliding into the booth across from you. Mint chocolate chip ice cream already caught on the side on his lip. “Try it.” he pushes excitedly.

You do, digging out a fair amount and capturing the spoon in your mouth. Jonah watches every muscle you make. The ice cream hits your tongue your taste buds exploding. It tasted like the feeling of hugging a puppy, like pure happiness. His green eyes brighten and a genuine smile spreads onto his lips.

“This is absolutely amazing.” You beam,

“My thoughts exactly.” Jonah shoves another spoon of ice past his lips.

Jonah Marais

The radio played a gorgeous melody of Good Nights by Whethan. Hand full of gleaming rings tapped against the smooth steering wheel. Jonah hummed the lyrics thinking about sampling this song one day. Right hand curling on the gear shift, levelling the the clutch and the acceleration. His foot slips and drops the clutch causing the vehicle to jerk.

It was an instinct when his head whipped to you with concern glinting in his eyes. But Jonah sighed in relief at the sight of you. Head rested on the window, legs tucked into your body tightly. Your eyes closed and lips slightly parted, letting snores escape. Smile spread on to his lips. You were asleep in his passenger window.

Fuck you were asleep. How the hell was he going to get you through the corridors of your dorm? He didn’t feel comfortable going through your purse. Because if he did that would give you another reason not to trust him. Jonah couldn't risk that right now. The only choice was to bring you to his place. Not the fraternity, but his own personal space.

There was minimal traffic at four in the morning, Jonah weaved through it with ease and got to his apartment quick. He collected you in his arms with ease as if you were the missing piece to his complicated puzzle. You never squirmed at Cheryl’s loud honk when she locked.

Walking into his generous apartment he immediately shushed Sawyer, his three year-old Labrador. Nonetheless the asshole still managed to muster a bark, “Shut up, it’s me dingus.” Jonah whisper hissed at him, shaking his head at his dog before carrying you to his bedroom. Sawyer trailed with the light jingle of his collar and tag clashing together.

Laying you down Jonah turned for his closet, walking in as he strip out of his gross clothing. He found a pair of sweats and pulled them on, letting them rest on his hips. Coming back into the room he was startled to see you siting up. Coddling Sawyers head in your thighs, massive smile on his lips as his tail wagged.

“Hey,” Jonah greets,

Y/n turned to him a sleepy smile on her lips and a dazed look in her eyes. Half asleep, she was still cute as ever. Sawyer must of had the dumb courage to wake her up with a kiss like she was Snow White

“Have you meet Sawyer?” She asks, not realising that was his dog.

“Yeah, he’s a good dog.” He lied.

“Yes he is. Yes he is.” y/n speaks to sawyer in a baby voice, her attention on the dog again. Jonah laughs before turning back into the closet. He yanks one of his old band tees of the hanger, he smiles and shrugs. y/n can rep it for the night even if it was just in his apartment.

“Put this on, I don’t think you want to sleeping in that dress,” Jonah Throws the shirt at y/n and it hits her right in the face. “Shit!” he mumbles resisting the urge to laugh and escapes the room before she had the chance to curse him.

He digs up a blanket and a pillow from the hallway closet. Coming into the den he makes a makeshift bed on the soft leather couch. This would be the first time sleeping on them since he didn’t being girls to this apartment. It was his personal home, he didn’t want them poking around when they woke. Seeing parts of him nobody got to see. Y/n was different. Jonah honest didn't care if she saw or even took a souvenir on her way out.

walking back to check on her, Jonah tapped two knuckles on the door frame. There was no answer so he waited, still no response. Assuming she fell back asleep he entered his bedroom and smiled, y/n cuddled into Sawyer like she was meant to be there. As if Jonah saw her every night in his bed and still got those butterflies.

Small snores came both of them, their chests expanding with every breath. Walking in he spotting her green dress and bag a few inches away from the bed. First he morphed the dress in a ball and shot it into his hamper like a basket ball. Secondly he set her purse on the nightstand for her to find in the morning. He started for the door, but halted at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue.

“Jonah?”

“Yes” His words were urgent as he whirled to face her. Face half tucking into sawyer’s back as sleep swam in her eyes like a pool. “Could you please stay with me till I fall asleep?” Her words held a form of desperation, he was utterly confused by it. Thee y/n was asking him, Jonah Marais who she wasn’t too fond of to sleep in bed with her? He had to be dreaming because she would never say that in the bright of day. Although she was half asleep in his bed and never questioned it.

“I don’t know, you already have Sawyer.” He gives her time to reject him,

“Maybe it’s a little greedy, but I want both of you please? Just until I fall asleep and then you can leave.” She offers, but as soon as he’s beside her he knows he wont want to leave.

“Y-yeah I guess I can do that.” he stammers on his words.

“Thank you.” She mumbles with a small smile.

Jonah nods not sure how to response to her, he circles the bed and climbs into the right side. Heart pounding against his rib cage. He glances over already seeing y/n on her side and one hand cradling her face. Jonah gets into the same position, close enough so that her breath hits his face.

“What does it feel like to perform with the guys?” She asks a question Jonah never thought she cared about.

“Ecstasy. Singing these lyrics and fingers dancing on the guitar. It just gives me adrenaline like nothing before. Like i’m on top of a mountain and there’s nothing I can’t do. Like searching for paradise and finally finding it. It feels like home, as if I meant to do this for the rest of my life.” Y/n is quite watching the way Jonah beams talking about playing with his band.

“That’s what painting feels like to me, or did.” She says into a yawn that made him chuckle.

“You don’t paint anymore?”

“Nah passions don’t pay the bills. It’s what my dad always said. So here I am trying my shot at the medical field, the family profession.” Y/n yawns again as he eyes begin to droop.

“What’s the point if your hearts not in it?” He starts to pry,

“Not all of use have trust founds, we have to work for it.” He voice sounding more tired by the second.

“Your dad’s a plastic surgeon.” Jonah notes, blood boiling at this new information.

“He worked for all of it and now so do I.” Her eyes fully closed, knowing she was about to pass out any minute now.

“That’s...” He trailed off not knowing what to say to that, y/f/n was pushing her to become something she’s not. That sentence tasted metallic in his mouth, if y/n was his. He’d purchase an entire panting studio just for her and call it Jonah’s muse. because she indeed his muse,

Light snores soon erupted in the air, looking over he couldn’t stop smiling at the sight. You looked younger when you slept, resembling an angel. No a goddess. You looked so fucking attractive with his band tee on. His face was technically on your body as well as the rest of his band mates. Jonah would still take that as a win.

-----------------------

Y/n

The afternoon sun woke you up, warmth spreading along your body. Eyes still fluttered closed you roll over bumping into warm flesh. Your brain gives you a few seconds to bask in the warmth of Jonah. Then it clicks. There’s a body in your bed, recoiling at lighten speed you hit the floor. Pain sparks through your tail bone and a delicate headache pounds into your skull.

Sitting on the floor of a foreign room you begin to remember last night. The party. Ivette handing you off to Jonah at said party, well Daniel did. Jonah driving you home, scratch that to an ice cream parlour. His gentle hands tending to high heel wounds. Devouring the most amazing ice cream. Jonah driving you home. That’s it that’s all you remember, it doesn't explain how you got here.

Looking around frantically you caught sight of a dog you’ve never seen before. Watching you at the foot of the massive bed covered in black silk sheets. Two doors, one and exit to the hallway. The other was most likely a closet with piles of clothes spilling out. Large windows lined the room and a glass desk resting at the best view.

Heart missing a beat as you helped yourself off the floor.Taking cautious steps to the bed, spotting Jonah sleeping peaceful. On his back with sprawled out arms. Beautiful ink scattered along his right arm and the left side of his chest. Soft features as the sun engulfed him in the glorious light. It’d take no effort to crawl back into his bed. Rest your head onto his chest and listen to his heart beat.

You couldn’t.

You flee taking your purse with you on the way out. Unlocking the door and taking the elevator down. Struggling you fetch your phone out, praying that it still had life left to live and call Ivette. Wasn’t till this moment you realise you only had on a t-shirt. It was most definitely Jonah’s, massive fit reaching the mid of your thighs. Oh and let’s not forget the fact that it had his entire band on it.

The phone barely rang twice when Ivette picks up. “I need you to pick me up, like five minutes ago. Jonah took me to this ice cream parlour last night and next think I know I’m waking up in his bed. I don’t know where my dress is.” You rush your words out in a panic.

The elevator dings, you dash out getting a weird look from the door man. Stopping in your tracks with a modified expression on your face. you just walked out into the busiest street downtown. Not only were you wearing an oversized band t-shirt, no it wouldn’t stop there. You were also Bare. Foot.

“That doesn’t make sense Jonah never came home last night,” She says tiredly on the other line. Still waking up in Daniel’s bed, not a surprise there.

“His apartment! I’m pretty sure I know what Jonah looks like. He had a golden Labrador ring a bell?You got me into this mess, now get me out.” You looked like a whining toddler, mind splattering as you complained to her.

“A Labrador? Did you take something? Send me your fucking location.” That was Ivette’s mom voice, which totally meant she was going to curse your ass as soon as you got in the car.

“Sawyer.” a hushed male voice said in the background. there was a rustle on the other line. Ivette covered the mic, but you could still here them.

“What?”

“Jonah’s dog. He probably took her to his personal apartment.”

“I thought he lives here with you guys.”

“He does sometimes, but he mostly lives there. That’s beside the point, I know where it is.” A few more words are shared before the ruffle is back. She uncovered the mic.

“Daniel knows where you are, we’ll be there in thirsty. Stay put and don’t take anything else.” Ivette explains as if you didn’t here every word they spoke.

“I didn’t take anything.” Before the words are heard Ivette hangs up and cuts the line without saying goodbye.

Roughly forty minutes later Ivette’s range rover pulls to the crib so fast the rims almost kissed it.“Finally.” you mumbled to yourself, it’d probably would’ve been faster if you hailed a cab. But the bill would’ve been brutal.

The passenger window rolls down uncovering Ivette giving you a knowing smirk. Daniel gives a small wave from the driver’ seat, you flash him an irritated smile. His blue eyes almost pop out of their sockets before he’s attention is on the road.

“I really love the dress, every iconic. Don’t you think Daniel?” Ivette’s voice is teasing and sickly sweet.

“ Yeah. Those shirts were a demo, test run for real merch. It never got launched so only we have those shirts.” Daniel Pipes in looking at the fabric that clothed your body.

“Not only did Jonah take you to his apartment but he gave you his prised possession,” Ivette continues the teasing know that it got under you skin.

“Shut up.” You say sharply, annoyed on how long they took to pick you up. Should ran upstairs and woke Jonah up.

“What can’t take the teasing?” Ivette asks as you climb into the back seat. The scent of sweet cherry enters your nose as the leather circles around your body.

“Not when I woke to Jonah and Daniel taking forty minutes to get here!” You spit, the anger eating you alive. You stare at the back of his head and shoot daggers at him. Brunette roots starting to grown under his bleached blonde hair.

“They also have our last name and birth year on the back.” His words sound forced as he tried to fill the tense air. You shake your head and scoff. “Of course they fucking do. It’s almost like having a hickey on my neck shouting to the world I belong to someone. This is worse because everybody on campus knows who Jonah Marais is!” They go quiet and you begin stare out the window done with your little rant.

Daniel presses on the gas abruptly causing the vehicle to speed forward. Your back hits the seat with the impact. He goes through traffic like this is some NASCAR championship. You begin to wonder how the shirt got on your body. You were going kill him you just didn’t know how yet.

--------------------------------

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the second part of That One.

Which was your favourite part?

Don’t be afraid to message me if anything offended you with my POC characters. This is a safe space for everyone and I want to make it right!

Taglist: @jonahlovescoffee @randomlimelightxxx

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bibliofiles-in-a-greenhouse · 3 years

Text

Mad, Bad, & Dangerous to Know: A Review

Today I will be reviewing Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know by Samira Ahmed. As always, there will be spoilers ahead, so read at your own risk.

~~SPOILERS AHEAD~~

Khayyam Maquet should love her holiday with her studious parents in Paris. But instead she finds herself at a crossroads - her sometimes kind-of boyfriend is ghosting, she may have blown her chance of getting into her dream college, and all she wants is to go back home to Chicago to figure out her life.

But things change when she meets Alexandre Dumas, a descendant of her favorite writer. On top of that she finds letters to a mysterious woman, who just might give Khayyam another chance.

Meanwhile, centuries before, Leila is trying to hide her love from the pasha, and survive as she is ‘gifted’ a position of favor in said pasha’s harem. As Khayyam begins to trace the threads of Leila’s life, the lives of these two women will intertwine as both lives are changed forever.

~~TIME FOR MY THOUGHTS~~

I’m rather sad to say that I didn’t like this book. It felt like a chore to read, and my issues with the characters and the plot only made it worse.

For starters, this book was presented as a feminist and poc narrative, but both protagonists spend the majority of the book bending to the will of men, and not even nice, respectful men. Being a feminist and hating all men do not go hand in hand, but these characters, and Khayyam especially, are at the beck and call of the men in this story, above their own autonomy. Leila is not much better, making strong, well-grounded decisions and suddenly throwing them all away for a man despite the fact that it might very well get her killed.

Another thing that wrankles with me is that, from what I can tell, this book has some good poc representation, especially in that of the two leading ladies. But Khayyam makes me feel like she’s ‘not racist towards the french’ in the way that Emily in Paris is a love letter to France instead of a bunch of Americans taking a shit on French culture. Khayyam is such a cool intersection of cultures, race, and religion (she’s French, Indian, American, and Muslim), and I think it would have been really cool and interesting to take a look at how all of these intersecting identities affect Khayyam, regardless of where she is*.

Instead she spends so much time confused over which boy she should pick (she calls them ‘problematic faves’ - more on that later), that the story (these two women centuries apart coming together) that I came here for comes second.

Back to Khayyam’s ‘problematic faves’, or more accurately, her use of that term. It makes sense that a seventeen-year-old would speak like most of gen z, however, sometimes the volume of gen-z buzzwords in what Khayyam is saying reminds me of Riverdale, and not in a good way (side note: is anything involving Riverdale good? I mean seriously, would anyone ever say ‘I beg your misogynistic pardon?’ unironically?).

For a complete change of subject, where were Khayyam’s parents? Their few appearances are only to further the plot progression (and by plot I mean what should be the subplot of which boy Khayyam is going to pick), despite the fact that their daughter breaks and enters on multiple occasions. They let said daughter run around Paris with a guy that they met once (and the only thing they know about him is that he’s related to Alexandre Dumas), and though I appreciate that they are giving their daughter more independence, I’m a little concerned that they didn’t seem to fear for Khayyam’s safety at all.

The story has such a cool premise, but I feel like so much of it is spent mooning over different men (almost entirely on Khayyam’s part by this point, since Leila’s major paramour died) that it takes a back seat, and could be lost entirely without really affecting Khayyam’s journey at all. I don’t see a lot of character development in Khayyam, and she sort of comes across like ‘i’m not like other girls’ in the way that Bella from Twilight isn’t like other girls.

Later in the story, in an effort to prove that she really is feminist, and she doesn’t need men at all, her two love interests are demonized (which is fair, both of them are flawed, but given the fairly positive view that the reader has gathered of them from the previous 200-ish pages, it’s kind of out of nowhere), but that doesn’t erase the fact that Khayyam has been pining for the both of them throughout the book. I also think that Khayyam could have been a lot less damaging with how she handled the situation. She didn’t try to communicate sensibly and instead hurls insults at them until they both leave (In the case of Zaid, it kind of makes sense, he was not good to Khayyam, but Alexandre’s feels a bit less justified). I understand that given that she is 17, she may not be the most mature person in the world, but I think her outburst is kind of sudden and poorly handled.

She chooses herself, yes, but at the cost of some, if not glowing relationships, then half-decent ones. I feel like the book fell into the common pitfall of ‘romantic relationships are the be all and end all of teen life’ which is simply not true.

Khayyam is so focused on being feminist and defying the patriarchy in the present that she forgets that the whole point of this was to discover Leila’s story, and take down the patriarchy by telling it. The whole point of Alexandre appearing at all (his connections to the Dumas family helping discover Leila) is thrown out of the window when Zaid shows up, just like it has been for the last few hundred pages. Khayyam, and by extension Leila, are jerked around by men, the patriarchy, despite Khayyam’s whole deal supposedly being defying said patriarchy.

Khayyam reminds me of how white cishet male authors write feminists - spewing all the relevant rhetoric until a man comes along and ‘fixes’ it. I guess the only reason that i’m so bothered by it is because this is presented as a masterful feminist story, but all Khayyam really does is say feminist things while she is a doormat for the male characters. It doesn’t even feel like quality observations, because she spews all of this hate towards famous men - not entirely without reason - but she doesn’t acknowledge the cultural influence that these men had. She does not separate art from artist from gender.

Nevermind that these men are helping the plot move forward, and without them there would likely be no plot at all. Khayyam’s main personality trait is supposedly being feminist and not needing men, yet she consistently bends to the will of men for the sake of the plot or drama, both of which are in such contrast with how the reader has expected Khayyam to be that they feel almost physically painfully out of place.

In short, I think that this book had a really amazing plot idea and a lot of things going for it, but the way is was executed in contrast with my expectations based on the synopsis and the author’s note make me feel massively let down. The book has pitfalls that while not always massive, are commonplace enough and reoccurring enough that I couldn’t ignore them, and subsequently couldn’t find myself enjoying the book, no matter how hard I wanted to.

- Marigold

*note: I know that the race, religion, and/or cultural identity of a character, especially a poc character, should not be their only personality trait. However with Khayyam, I feel like it is not addressed in any way at all, despite the fact that within the first few sentences of the book it is put in a position to be a focal point. I just feel as though her saying vague things like ‘that lady was kind of rude to me’ leaving the insinuation that she (the woman) is racist, or ‘it’s paris so i probably won’t get shot by a cop’ (which is a fair thing to say, I just think that if you’re going to mention that you might as well add something to make me invested in that idea with regards to the character personally. That didn’t happen, therefore it feels very abstract; since she’s not in America, where such a comment would be most relevant it falls flat) really leaves out the audience and makes it hard for them to relate or sympathize with Khayyam’s struggles against racism. It feels performative, obligatory and perfunctory when it would have been such an effective device to get readers invested in Khayyam’s life, regardless of whether she was in the US or not. There are no flashbacks to help ground the things that Khayyam references, so it’s far too easy to forget that she said them at all, and that in her hometown she has a very good reason to be concerned for her safety (in special regards to the cop thing).

#book review #new books #book #bibliophile #Bibliofilia #library #mad bad and dangerous to know

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coasttocoastreads · 4 years

Text

Welcome back to Week 2 of Coast to Coast Reads! Who’s still alive? Katya and I are dying while social distancing, but at least we had a few laughs discussing this book:

Crescent City (House of Blood and Earth) // Sarah J Maas

★★ / ★★★★★

Summary in one two gif(s):

Real Summary:

Crescent City, a place where vanir (supernatural beings such as angels, fae, shifters, etc.) and humans freely mingle and go about their days. Bryce Quilan is a 20-something fae/human who’s still reeling from the murder of her friends 2 years ago. But after she’s commissioned to help search for an ancient artifact, Bryce, along with her new angel partner Hunt, unearth previously buried secrets about the murder that threaten to expose a worldwide conspiracy.

Pros:

Great side characters. I would die for each and every one of them.

Lots of different mythological creatures! Not just another Fae Book™️

Cons:

It’s literally ToG 2-7 combined. If you read Throne of Glass, you’ve already been spoiled for this book. 💀💀💀

It’s wayyyy too long

Drags a lot in the beginning

Plot .5/5 (the .5 is for you, Lehaba)

What can I say. SJM literally plagiarized herself by taking the plotline of the tog books and translating it to this new setting. The writing itself was subpar, and most of the time it felt like the author herself had no idea where the plot was going, instead letting it drag on until a plot twist that makes no sense is revealed. (You’ll know which one I’m talking about when you get there.) I’ll compare CC with ToG with spoilers under the cut.

Pacing 2/5

The beginning is full of info-dumping as SJM tries to set up this world which is metaphorically like ours, but everyone’s hot and does fantasy cocaine all the time. It narrates boring day-to-day schedules that could have been condensed into a paragraph and at times I was tempted to skip ahead. The plot does pick up near the last 25% though, so I’ll give it that.

Worldbuilding 2.5/5

It was confusing. To be fair, after all the info was dumped at the beginning, I didn’t bother going back to try to figure things out when they popped up again after. But like still??? I think I only started understanding the hierarchy of the government with the Asterrii(?). Also what are the Triarii I am still lost. SJM attempts to blend a more modern society with one of fantasy creatures, and for the most part it succeeds, but it often just feels...strange. I think the one thing I’m most hung up about is why swords and guns still coexist. Like ??????? it’s one or the other plssssss abandon the “aesthetic” Also while they literally have cell phones and keurig machines there aren’t common things like cars? Why.

Characters: (This is unconventional, bear with me)

Main Characters: -infinity/5 they could go die for all I care

Bryce and Hunt were both super unlikeable, 10/10 would let fall from a cliff. They are literally just rewrites of Aelin and Rowan? Bryce is like ahahaha yeah people think I’m Just a dumb vapid Female™️ who parties too much and gets trashed but SIKE I’m actually the chosen one and I’ve been hiding it this whole time because I didn’t want to hurt people’s feelings uwu. And did I mention I’m actually a trained Warrior who can keep up with The Boys? It’s Aelin y’all. There are numerous times where a character says that she’s not stupid and I’m like...are you sure... This girl makes the poorest decisions, yet ofc, there aren’t any long term consequences... (Also 99% of her problems come from ghosting people literally just respond with “k” sis)

Hunt is... idek what to say about Hunt. He’s just Rowan but in angel form. His inner monologue cycles between I must pay off my debt so I can gain Freedom 😔, why is Bryce so hot 🥴, and Shahar 😭. Once again, literally Rowan who also was bound to some evil villain, had the hots for their CENTURIES YOUNGER pupil/protectee, and had an old lover die tragically which led to them believing they can never find love again UNTIL BryLin comes along. Snooze.

Side Characters: Infinity/5

Ruhn Danaan was the most valid character and that’s the hill I’ll die on. He literally just wanted to protect his sister cuz she’s stupid af but she keeps pushing him away bc he’s an “alphahole” (haha how subversive :/) I want a whole book about him and Hypaxia, preferably fanfiction so I don’t have to read “soft feminine breathing” ever again.

Literally all the supporting cast- Lehaba, Therion, Ithan, Jesiba, Flynn, Connor, etc, etc. had more compelling characters and side stories than Bryce/Hunt. I was 100% more invested in them and I can’t wait to read/write more about them.

(Pls let me marry Jesiba Roga or Therion 🥺)

But while the people on the “good” side were spectacular, the villains all felt one-dimensional and the product of over-recycled and overused tropes mashed together. Sandriel and Pollux are literally just Maeve and Cairn (is that his name)

I’d recommend for:

People who loved Throne of Glass and are lamenting the absence of new content. Please read about Rowaelin 2.0

People stuck at home during this global crisis and have too much time on their hands. (If you need that free epub, hmu)

People who are willing to skip all scenes that feature just Bryce and/or Hunt

People who hate themselves

Would I travel here?

Sorry, what? Already shredded my passport, not getting a replacement, sorry.

Overall thoughts:

I wish I could somehow take those hours of my life back but alas.

See y’all in two weeks with a hopefully better book selection,

Tiff

Spoilers under cut

Okay time to VENT

OKAY so CC=ToG, let’s break down how

Danika’s death is the Nehemia Incident, setting the mc up for a journey of self discovery/reclaiming their power. They both show up as ghosts later to encourage mc in a time of great self-struggle.

Syrinx if Fleetfoot. bc all female mc’s need a pet to reveal her Feminine and Soft side

Sandriel and Pollux are Maeve and Cairn. Evil female character with vast power and her torturer? COOKIE CUTTER FORMULA. The scene where Bryce offers herself up for Hunt in the lobby also kinda mirrors that scene in..HoF? QoS? Don’t remember, but pretty sure that happened. Also that scene was so fucking dumb, I really thought Bryce had a Smart Plan, but I was bamboozled once again.

A gem from my notes: “Bryce is Aelin but with cocaine”

I think the whole demon portal thing is a ripoff of ACOWAR (or is it KoA I can’t even remember), sacrificing yourself to close the rift, etc, etc.

Anyways, Bryce = Aelin, a party-girl front with a sob backstory that’s her superpower origin story who always has a Plan.

Hunt = Rowan, broody warrior busy repaying debts getting orders they don’t want while pining over a lost love. They reluctantly let the female mc in and voila they’re in LOVE

The whole “plot twist” that revealed Hunt’s true plan along was so fucking dumb...

It wasn’t a plot twist, it was just plain bad writing

There was no set up at all, nothing alluding to Hunt secretly masterminding an attempted coup with the help of Magic Meth

The whole time I was like “...this is part of their plan right. There’s no way he legit planned this...”

Character’s POVs should reveal what they’re thinking, even if you’re just hinting at something to reveal later...this was just lazy

Another thing that really rubbed me the wrong way was the sudden reveal that Fury and Juniper had been in a relationship the whole time? Despite like above, there was no prior allusion to that?

It felt like half-assed representation at best and completely irrelevant to the story with it coming up again in a throwaway line near the end

Also? I’m fairly certain there was a scene in the beginning where they were all out clubbing and Juniper hooked up with some rando while Fury was also at the club with them? Was this before they got together or did SJM insert this so last minute that no one caught it?

Wtf is sunball. Can someone just help me out here.

Some people have been saying Hunt is Asian coded? Where???!!!!! All I’m seeing is the same stuff she pulled in ACOTAR where all the Illyrians were tan so people could claim they were poc for woke points but not get in trouble for art depicting them as white ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

SJM pls stay away from “like calls to like” you don’t deserve it

#crescent city #house of blood and earth #sarah j maas #tiffs reviews #2 stars #fantasy #bookblr #booklr #bookstagram #book review #yalit #reading #books

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writing-for-amusement · 5 years

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Commission for Confidence, 10

Summary: Y/N has been struggling with her self-esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?

A/N: ALRIGHT Y’ALL, HERE IT IS. Omg, I feel like it has been FOREVER since I updated this fic, and I feel so bad!! However, I know it’s because I was working on other stuff, and stuff with life has popped up. I hope you guys like this chapter, I am relatively happy with it. After this one, I’m gonna do a little time skip. It might be a bit before that, though, because I want to do some of the requests I’ve gotten!! Enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! There’s also some conversing in sign language and I hope I wrote it in a good way! I know that when you’re actually signing a conversation, there are a lot of little filler words that get cut out because that’s obviously the nature of the language, but I wrote the signing as it was meant to be interpreted. Please give me some feedback on how I wrote it if you can, I just want to write well!!!

You can still get on any of my taglists, including my permanent one! If your username has a strikethrough, it means it isn’t working

Permanent Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @jordyns-library, @natblidaclexa, @peterseuphoria, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @beccaboo929, @softrdj, @icecoldban, @paintballkid711

CFC Taglist: @scatterbrainedgenius, @wildfirecracker, @pastlives-purplesouls, @maybemona, @hotchocolattee, @heregoestheworld, @willowtree42095, @134340-cm, @this-is-just-for-fanfic-lmao, @poc-gotbang, @sincerelygmg, @toastedpopsicles, @imstupidsblog, @casual-vaporwave, @xfangirl-trashx

Word Count: 4855

Warnings: fluff, Monopoly related anger, some nerves and anxiety, mostly just fluff I think???, some mention of pain pills, swearing lmao, minor self esteem issues but barely there, legit it’s mostly fluff

You woke up to your alarm and groggily pressed snooze. After pressing snooze twice, you sat up with muscles that protested, but nowhere near as loudly as they had that morning. The TV was asking if you were still watching, so you pressed the yes button and stood up.

Checking your phone, you padded to the kitchen and turned on the electric kettle again. There were a few messages, to your surprise.

Monica had texted you multiple times, demanding to know how you were and why you weren’t responding. You realized with a wince that you’d forgotten to tell her about the entire incident the previous day.

The other messages were from Peter, asking you about your snack preferences. They were more recent, thankfully, so you replied to those first.

As you crossed to your room and debated what clothes to wear, you called your best friend. You were unsurprised when she answered on the first ring.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” she demanded immediately.

“Listen, Monica—”

“No, no, you listen!” she interrupted you. “I was scrolling through some apps last night, and I saw a news clip of Spider-Man, and there you were! You were right there! And I saw you afterward, covered in cuts and bits of glass! What the fuck happened?”

You sighed and gave a quick overview, knowing that Monica was squeamish when it involved injuries. She started squealing with excitement as you told her that Peter came to keep you company, and that he made dinner for you. When you told her that you needed her help picking an outfit for game night, Monica was immediately facetiming you.

“What are we looking at?” Monica demanded as your face appeared.

“A casual night, meeting his aunt and best friend,” you explained. “We gotta go quick, though, because I really want a shower. Like, I think it’ll make my body feel so much better.”

“Of course. What about that Spider-Man shirt you have? And some leggings, that one black pair that you totally rock.”

“But that’s a crop top,” you argued quietly. “Not much of one, but it is…”

“Do it, you rock that shirt,” Monica encouraged you. “Besides, it’s casual, you’ll fit in perfectly! And, if I remember correctly, it’s a super comfy shirt.”

“Of course, you remember correctly,” you chuckled as you pulled it out, “you bought it for me, remember?”

“I do,” she beamed at you.

“Okay, love, I’m gonna get in the shower. I’ve got it from here.”

“Alright, hot stuff,” Monica winked, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You raised a brow at her, causing her to cackle and quickly blow a kiss to you through the screen. With a quick goodbye, she hung up.

The hot water from the shower was amazing. It made everything feel just a little bit better, the muscles in your body nearly melting upon first water contact.

After one of the best showers you ever had, you dried off and inspected your bandages. You were thankful that you had plenty of bandages, because you felt a bit more comfortable with clean bandages on your cuts. There were only a few that looked like they were still a bit oozy.

You got dressed, incredibly happy that your muscles were arguing less, and put on just a little bit of mascara. Then, after making sure you had everything, you slipped your shoes on and began your walk to Peter’s apartment. He didn’t live super far away, and you realized as you checked your phone that you were thirty minutes early.

Instead of going into the building, you continued past it and into the flower shop right next door. You adored that flower shop; they always had the nicest and freshest blooms for the season. And their prices were very fair. You’d been visiting the shop since you moved to the city; at first you’d wandered upon it, but then you made some fast friends.

You waved to Sofia, the owner, and signed, “Hello, Sofia. How are you?”

“Great! Business is great,” she signed back, giving you the brightest grin. “What do you need today?” Suddenly, her eyes zoned in on the bandages on your arm and face. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Just a small incident with some broken glass. I’m fine, I promise. It doesn’t even hurt. I need something for a friend’s aunt,” you explained. “She’s like a mother to him. I’m thinking something not too big, with bright colors. Maybe some tulips and daffodils?”

“Okay, well, as long as you’re okay. Tell me, what’s she like?"

You paused for a moment, trying to think about what you could say. “I haven’t met her,” you signed, “but I’ve heard only good things.”

“What’s her kid like?” Sofia asked. “Name?”

You quickly spelt Peter’s name with your fingers and Sofia grinned. “Oh, is he nice?”

“He’s very sweet,” you informed her, “almost like candy.”

Sofia wiggled her eyebrows at you and held up a finger to pause the conversation. You waited patiently as she walked farther into her shop, obviously on a mission for the bouquet she had in mind. After she didn’t show up for another two minutes, you turned and began to admire the day-old bouquets behind you.

You turned back as Sofia approached with a simple bouquet in her hands. There were orange tulips and yellow daffodils, arranged artfully. Without asking, Sofia put them in a simple vase with a bit of water; she tied a yellow bow around it and showed it to you with pride shining in her eyes.

“It’s perfect!” you cheered, emphatically signing your admiration and appreciation. “You are so talented, Sofia!”

She waved you off playfully, a grin on her lips. “I hope they all like them.”

You paid the woman, noting that she knocked the price down for you; you shoved a twenty-dollar bill in her tip jar when her back was turned. Sofia handed you the receipt and gave you a sly smile.

“Tell me about Peter,” she urged, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s really sweet, an artist,” you explained. At her look, you cut her off. “He’s just a friend, Sofia. I’m about to go over to his game night with his roommate and aunt.”

“That sounds like fun. Is he cute, do you like him?”

Your eyes went wide at her blunt question and her laughter made it obvious that she already knew the answer. “He’s a wonderful person,” you informed her, trying not to give more away. Sofia could always see through anything, though.

“You like him,” she signed with a wicked grin. “You do!”

“He’s my friend!” you protested, rolling your eyes. “Speaking of Peter, I need to get going to game night.”

“Fine, fine, I hope you get some!” Sofia signed quickly.

Your blood rushed at her words. Instead of gracing her with a response, you stuck your tongue out at her and bid her a goodbye. Her laughter followed you out of the shop.

You bustled to the apartment building next door, holding the flowers close to your nose. They smelt divine.

The person in the lobby recognized you and gave you a wide smile. You waved at him and went straight to the elevator. It was a smooth ride up, and as you adjusted your arm, you felt a twinge of pain. Perhaps you should’ve taken some ibuprofen before you left…

You got off the elevator and walked to Peter’s door. You were ten minutes early, but that was okay. After going through a mental checklist, you nodded to yourself and finally knocked on the door. There was an urge to rock on your feet to get your nerves out, but you managed to curb that urge.

The door opened and you were met with Peter, a breathless smile on his face; as he looked at your shirt, he blushed bright red. Right behind him were two people, each peering around the man to get a look. You found yourself essentially giggling with mirth at the sight of two heads crowding in with Peter’s, nearly pushing the man over. It was downright hilarious to you, and you had to turn away from the door to try to quiet your chortling.

“I’m sorry,” you finally managed to get out, constantly interrupted by your own giggles, “I’m sorry, it’s just so funny, you’re all smushed together like that!”

Peter started chuckling with you, and after another minute, you turned back around. He was still at the door, the most adorable smile on his face, the blush still prominent (you had no idea why he was blushing, but it was super cute). The people that had been behind him were gone, but you could hear them talking in the apartment.

“Sorry,” you chuckled lightly.

“Hey, I love your laugh, so please, laugh away,” he grinned at you.

Your blood seemed to sing as you finally followed him in. Standing by the dining room table was a woman, one you assumed was May Parker.

“Y/N,” Peter began, “this is my Aunt May. And in the kitchen is Ned.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled a bit shyly at the woman. You held the flowers out. “I had some extra time before coming here, so I got you these flowers. I hope you like them. I-I know it might be a little weird, but I’m very fond of your nephew, and he speaks so highly of you. Besides, surprise flowers are nice,” you explained nervously.

“Thank you so much!” May beamed at you, coming forward and taking the vase from your hands. She wrapped one arm around you in a surprise hug and then kissed your cheek. When she pulled back, her smile was wider, and she sniffed the flowers. “Peter was right when he said you’re a sweet woman.”

You blood warmed slightly and you shifted on your feet. “Peter is really sweet, too.”

“I know, such a good kid,” May said adoringly. “Well, are you ready for game night?”

“Just how intense is it supposed to get?” you asked with a grin.

“Depends on how much you can handle.”

“What are we playing?”

“Thought we’d start with Monopoly.”

Your grin widened. “Oh yeah, I can definitely handle that intensity.”

“A girl after my own heart. By the way, I love your shirt, it’s super cute and on-brand for this family,” May told you as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder and steered you to the dining room table, where the game was already set up.

“I swear to fucking god, Peter, if you put another hotel there, I will flip this table!” Ned was yelling ninety minutes later.

“What about you, buying all utilities?” Peter shot back, his eyes full of fire.

“It’s only because Y/N bought all the airports!”

“That’s how the game works!” you and May joined in simultaneously.

“You’re just jealous that I got all the red spaces!” Peter yelled to Ned.

“Because you know I love the red spaces!” Ned shouted.

“That’s why I got them! Payback, bitch!”

“Oh, so this is payback for the time I decided to play as the dog because you were running late again?”

“Yes!”

You glanced at May and erupted into laughter. Despite the semi-harsh words being said, you could see the amusement in both men’s eyes and the smiles on their faces. It was, all in all, incredibly amusing. The energy of the room was electric and warm, incredibly comforting in an unusual but not unwelcome way.

Ned and Peter stopped arguing as they heard your laughter. You were leaning back in your chair, your head tilted and your hand on your chest as you tried to calm your cackling. May joined in, and soon, so did Peter and Ned.

“I think I have a solution,” you informed them as your laughter sobered.

“Let me hear it,” Ned and Peter said simultaneously.

You grinned at them before quickly flipping the board over. Everything went flying and you immediately dissolved back into laughter at everyone’s shocked faces. Their mouths remained open and you continued to laugh as you cleaned up the board and put everything back in the box. The laughter had devolved into chuckles when May began to help you put stuff away, a bright smile on her face.

“I like you, Y/N. You fit right in,” she said frankly.

You smiled sheepishly as you organized the money.

When you turned to look at Ned and Peter, they were both turned away from the table, whispering to each other and glancing over their shoulders. As you raised an eyebrow at Peter, he immediately turned red and jerked his head back.

With a shrug, you discussed what movie to watch with May. You both agreed that it was probably a good idea to put a movie on and play a different game. May was suggesting Cards Against Humanity, and you were seriously considering it. Of course, you were also weighing in the possibilities for total embarrassment with that particular game.

“Oh, what the hell, let’s do it!” you beamed, finding May’s cheer adorable.

Ned and Peter were still whispering while you helped May transfer all cups and food to the coffee table in the living room. You were setting everything up and they were still whispering as May put on Weird Science.

“Truly one of the great classics, May,” you informed her with an approving nod.

May nodded at you before giving you a pointed glance towards the boys. You gave a tiny nod of confirmation and walked over to them.

“Guys,” you stated loudly behind them, making Ned jump in surprise. “C’mon, it’s time for Cards Against Humanity and Weird Science. Wanna make some popcorn?”

“S-sure,” Peter stuttered, his ears and cheeks bright red.

“What’s got you two all worked in a bunch?” you asked gently.

“I, um, I have to run into the office really quick,” Peter admitted in a rush.

“Oh,” you blinked in surprise. “Um, okay? Is that what you’ve been discussing?”

“Y-yeah,” Peter admitted, his blush getting deeper.

“Are you worried about me?” you asked gently.

“I just, it would be rude—”

“Hey, Peter, it’s okay,” you interrupted him tenderly. “Emergencies happen. It’s totally cool with me. Besides, I like Ned, and I’m ready to win all of May’s love for all eternity.” You leaned forward slightly and pretended to whisper, “I’m gonna be her favorite, Peter; I’m gunning for your spot.”

Peter and Ned laughed loudly at that before Peter jogged to his room to get something he needed for the office. Ned rushed to the kitchen to make some popcorn while you went to sit on the couch with May.

“So, May, Peter has to go to the office for some sort of emergency,” you informed the woman as you plopped onto the couch next to her.

“That happens a lot,” May shrugged a shoulder. “And you can call me Aunt May, Y/N. After all this stuff tonight, I’m pretty sure you’re one of mine now.”

You laughed brightly, trying to calm the excitement that coursed through your veins. It had been awhile since you had that sort of motherly affection, and you didn’t quite know what to do about it. But you decided that you would roll with it.

“Okay, gotta go, see you in a bit, bye!” Peter’s voice flashed by you as he ran to the front door and left loudly.

“That was… weird,” you muttered under your breath. “Figured he’d actually, y’know, face us to say goodbye.”

“Oh, he gets like that when there’s an emergency,” Aunt May explained casually.

“Y-yeah, sometimes he doesn’t even go out the door, he goes down the fire escape,” Ned said almost… nervously.

As you watched the movie and casually played Cards Against Humanity, occasionally taking photos of the really good plays to show Peter when he returned, you found yourself getting really comfortable with the other two people. When the movie was over, Aunt May popped in another comedy, White Chicks.

About halfway through the movie, Aunt May decided to call it a night. She gave you a warm hug and a squeeze, telling you to wear the Spider-Man shirt more often with a wink. She gave Ned a squeeze and told either of you to give Peter a hug when he came back from the office. With another wave over her shoulder, Aunt May left.

Luckily, it wasn’t awkward with just Ned. You talked about both your jobs and your shared love of science fiction as the movie played. Ned even told you a few funny Peter stories that you soaked up with a vigor. When White Chicks was over, Ned decided to pop one more movie in while waiting for Peter (he picked Airplane).

You found yourself nodding off slightly while the movie was playing. Between the worlds of awake and asleep, you stretched out on the couch a bit more. It was an incredibly comfortable couch, obviously easy to fall asleep on.

Not even halfway through Airplane, Ned saw that you were sleeping peacefully. He figured that were still tired from the previous day, so he turned down the volume of the TV. After draping a blanket over your sleeping form, he went to bed.

Peter entered through the living room window cautiously. He could see that the TV was still on, so he didn’t want to alert you if you were still home, but his window had been getting stuck and needed fixing.

Rolling through the window silently, Peter sprang up to see you asleep on the couch. The light from the TV, playing the menu screen for Airplane, was giving you a light blue glow. You looked absolutely fantastic, but you also looked slightly uncomfortable as you used your arm as a pillow.

He took a step to you before remembering that he was still in his suit. Quickly changing into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, Peter lightly jogged to your sleeping form with a pillow in his hands.

“Y/N,” you heard a gentle voice prodding you awake. “Y/N, wake up.”

Groaning lightly, you managed to open your eyes and push up from your position slightly. To your slight surprise, you saw Peter kneeling next to you. The light from the TV was making him look unfairly attractive, as was that damn tight white t-shirt.

“You’re too cute,” you muttered as you relaxed your arms to lay back down. “’S not fair that you’re so damn attractive,” you continued to mutter. “’S not fair to others that aren’t pretty, people like me.” A yawn stretched your lips and you smacked your lips.

Peter’s light chuckle floated to your ears. “You want a pillow, Y/N?”

You grumbled, making him laugh.

“C’mon, let’s get you more comfortable.”

“Are you comfy?” you mumbled.

“I mean, I’m kneeling on the floor.”

“Are you a comfy person?”

“I-I, I mean, I guess.”

“I’d rather use you than a pillow,” you admitted, still mostly asleep. “It’s cause ya look so comfy and cuddly.”

Peter chuckled again as you settled into your previous position. Your slightly opened eyes saw him biting his lip in thought before he nudged you over. You complied easily, scooting back until your back touched the back of the couch. You mused over the wideness of the couch and lifted slightly so Peter could snake his arm under your head.

He settled in next to you and you nuzzled closer and into his chest. You wrapped your leg over his and let out a small hum of comfort. Peter chuckled and you felt him hesitantly trail his hand down until it rested on your waist. With another hum, you felt yourself fall back into a deep, comfortable sleep.

You woke up slowly, feeling more rested and comfortable than you had in a long time. The night of sleep had been so nice, in fact, that you really didn’t want to continue to wake up. Still, you knew that you had to wake up eventually, so you opened your eyes.

Peter’s sleeping face was right in front of yours. His curly brown hair was falling across his forehead adorably, and the peaceful look on his face made you want to take a picture. You couldn’t do that, of course, because it wasn’t like you were his girlfriend or an actual artist like he was.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened after you fell asleep the first time. As you memorized Peter’s sleeping face, you tried to recall how you came into this predicament. Peter’s arms holding you close did not go past you.

You let out a slight sigh and tried to squash the excitement that came when Peter let out a small grumble and tightened his hold on you.

A vague whisper of a memory came into your mind as you couldn’t help but bring your hand up to brush some of Peter’s hair off his forehead.

The memory told you that you’d mumbled some things that you would not have said otherwise. Apparently, sleepy you had much more confidence and a much smaller filter than fully aware and awake you. You felt your blood rush as your boldness from your sleep-induced state came into your living memory.

As you played with Peter’s hair, you decided to not focus on the words you’d uttered. Instead, you focused on the softness of his hair and the smoothness of his skin. He was so peaceful, and your tender, hesitant touches seemed to make him relax even more.

Peter let out a sigh and pulled you ever closer. After another minute, and you tucking your arm back against your body, your gaze was met with Peter’s sleepy brown eyes.

“G’morning,” he murmured, giving you a squeeze. “You’re a really good cuddle buddy. So warm and soft and nice. Smell good too.”

You chuckled lightly before you nudged Peter slightly. “Sorry about last night,” you said quietly. “I didn’t know I’m so… bold when I’m sleepy.”

Peter chuckled sleepily and the breath tickled your skin. “It’s alright,” he sighed happily. “I liked it. And I liked cuddling with you.”

“I did too,” you admitted shyly. “Peter?”

“Hm?”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

Peter let out a dramatic groan before removing his arms and rolling over. He obviously forgot that he was on the couch, because he landed on the floor with a thud. You couldn’t stop the loud laughter that left you as his fluffy curls popped up while Peter glared at you for laughing at his plight.

You climbed over him, still laughing, and hurried to the bathroom. All the liquids you had ingested the night before had caught up with you, and you cursed your past self for causing your present self to have to leave Peter’s cuddles. Then again, you pondered as you washed your hands, you hadn’t expected to spend the night, nor to cuddle with Peter.

If you weren’t so relaxed and still sleepy, you’d probably be freaking out.

When you walked back out, you saw that Peter was sitting on a counter in the kitchen. He was typing on his phone and a pot of coffee was brewing in the kitchen. As you entered the kitchen, you let out a groan of relief at the smell of the coffee.

“You should make that sound more often,” Peter informed you casually as he glanced up from his phone.

Your blood sang through your body and you decided to not comment on that. You texted Monica and told her that you planned on calling her later in the day, and a few minutes later, Peter was handing you a mug of coffee.

“Thanks,” you smiled at him.

“No problem. Thanks for inviting me to cuddle last night,” he smirked lightheartedly at you. “That was the best sleep of my life.”

You chuckled as you made your coffee the way you liked it. “I slept very well, too. Thank you, Peter. And thank you for being so cool about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Shrugging a shoulder, you sighed as you took your first sip of coffee. “I don’t know,” you admitted, “just… I don’t know. But I still appreciate it. I don’t always sleep the best, and it really was a nice sleep. So, thanks, Peter.”

“Hey, anytime. I seriously mean that, by the way,” he gave you a pointed look.

You barked out a laugh and nodded. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good!”

Peter offered you some toast, or a bagel, but you politely declined. At his concerned look, you explained that you weren’t normally hungry right after waking up. You also told him that you needed to get home and take a pain pill to get rid of the little ache you still felt in your body. He pouted but seemed to understand.

After you finished your coffee, you went to the bathroom and your hands through your hair to make sure it didn’t look too crazy for your short walk. Sure, it was NYC, but you didn’t like to stand out. Peter laughed and told you that your hair was fine, but at your sideways teasing glare, he chuckled even more and left you to fix it up.

“Okay, Peter, I’d better get going,” you announced as you entered the living room.

Peter was adorably curled on the couch with a sketchbook in his lap. You pretended to peer around his shoulder to see what he was working on, but he held it to his chest and gave you a fake glare. He relaxed as you chuckled and stood up.

“Okay, well, thank you for having me over,” you said as you walked to the door.

“What are you thanking me now for? I’m walking you home,” Peter chuckled as he followed you to the door.

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I’m walking you,” he said in a no-nonsense tone.

You didn’t argue and instead let him lead the way out of his apartment.

The walk to your apartment was brief but nice. The coolness of the morning air was refreshing, and Peter kept up a casual stream of conversation that you eagerly participated in.

Almost too soon, you reached your building and turned to Peter. He grinned at you and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you, Peter,” you said softly, changing the whole dynamic around you. You felt a bit vulnerable with the shift you caused, but you pushed on. “I had a really great time. It really took my mind off of things, and I really appreciate you inviting me into your life. I feel… honored to have met some of the people most important to you. Thank you.”

Peter’s smile was tender and made your heart dance. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m really happy you got to meet Ned and Aunt May, and that you get along so well with them. I know I had to leave, but I’m really, really glad you had such a great time. Aunt May was texting me and telling me that you’re her favorite now, so… lucky you, I guess,” he pretended to pout.

You laughed and shifted your weight a bit. “She’s a wonderful woman, and she raised a wonderful man. I know you’ll always be her actual favorite, but I’m gonna soak up that title for as long as I can.”

The atmosphere had shifted again, and you felt less vulnerable. Still, you felt good; you didn’t feel guilt at sharing your feelings the way you sometimes did.

“Well, I’d better let you get back to your Saturday,” you announced, wincing internally at the awkwardness of the announcement.

“Y-yeah,” Peter agreed, giving you a smile that perhaps had a tinge of sadness.

“I’ll, uh, see you soon? If you want?”

“Yeah, definitely!” His eagerness made your heart do a little Irish jig. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? I know you’re still sore from the other day.”

“Of course. You too, Peter. I mean, any excuse to see you again, am I right?” Your face heated as you realized what you said. “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, okay? Tell Ned I said thank you for letting him into his home, and that it was nice to meet him,” you plowed on quickly. “Anyway, thanks again, Peter. Stay safe!”

Before you realized what you were doing, you stepped forward and kissed his cheek before retreating inside. You didn’t look back as you rushed to the building door, much too focused on dealing with your river dancing heart. When you glanced at him from the door, you saw the brightest, happiest smile you had ever seen.

Your river dancing heart slowed down at the sight of his smile. Warmth filled your body and your muscles relaxed. With one more smile at him, you went inside.

As soon as you entered your apartment, you slid down the door and onto the floor. Your smile was almost hurting your face with how long it had been there.

No matter the ache in your face, you didn’t want this feeling to fade.

#peter parker x plus size reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x insecure!reader #spider-man x plus size reader #spider-man x reader #commission for confidence #artist peter parker au #plus size reader #plus size reader insert #reader insert #please let me know what you think since i am desperate for validation

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binniedeactivated · 4 years

Text

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧. || 🌪💦 (1.3)

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➦ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐏𝐎𝐂 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

➦ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐮

➦ 𝐖/𝐂 | 2.6k

➦ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱.

POC = person of color

“myla! daniel! come get your lunchboxes”. yeonjun reminds, shoving another small pack of cookies into daniel’s just before zipping it shut. the two uniformed children rushed downstairs at once, apparently having a race seeing who could grab their lunchbox the fastest. yeonjun always ignored their petty little games unless they started physically fighting over them.

“good morning logan”. yeonjun coos, buckling his car seat. it was odd that the infant was always wide awake in the morning. yeonjun thought if he was a baby he would use that to his advantage and get all the sleep he wanted. but logan enjoyed being awake, as if he was afraid he was going to miss something. “are you ready for daycare?”. yeonjun smiles a little more at the baby prior to hearing heels clash against the kitchen floor.

he didn’t need to look up to know that it was leah, putting her morning coffee in her thermos like she did every morning. except today she was ignoring almost the whole house. specifically yeonjun. she barely looked at him nevertheless talked to him. and yeonjun hated when she acted that way in front of the children. it was already bad enough that myla overheard them arguing. he didn’t want to cause anymore scenes.

“come on guys lets go to the car we’re going to be late”.

yeonjun gathers them in the vehicle making sure all seat belts were on and that logan was safely strapped in himself. he places the diaper bag on the backseat floor before shutting the door and sliding into the front seat. as soon as yeonjun closed the door though he was hit with an over powering smell that crept down the back of his throat. he covered his nose and looked through the rear view mirror knowing exactly where the smell was coming from.

“ew daniel! you stink”. myla whines hiding her nose underneath her shirt.

“how much of my body spray did you use?”.

“what? I used just enough to get me some attention”.

“you’re going to get some attention alright. when you use body spray daniel you use it in modesty. don’t pour the whole bottle on yourself. go in the house and get another uniform shirt out of your drawer”.

he sighs, unbuckling his seat belt to run inside. leah shortly passed him on his way. she made her way to the car and opened the passenger seat door, sliding in and putting her purse on the floor beside her. yeonjun stared at her annoyingly. he turned some soft morning music on the radio to drown out their conversation being that myla was still in the car.

“don’t do this this morning”. he mumbles.

“I’m not doing anything. just drop me off to work yeonjun”. she mumbles back with an eye roll.

“why do you always have to do this in front of the kids? why? you can’t even pretend that we’re on good terms you just want to act like a nuisance no matter what?”.

“that’s your problem yeonjun. you want to fake everything. you want to me to fake my way through our circumstances, fake my way through this marriage and fake my happiness. I’m not doing it anymore”.

yeonjun chews on his lower lip. “why didn’t you just say that in the first place? why didn’t you just tell me you weren’t happy?”.

“you wouldn’t understand”.

“why wouldn’t I? why wouldn’t I want to make the mother of my children happy? if that’s what it takes in order for you to be who I know you can be I’d be willing to do anything”.

“you wouldn’t understand yeonjun”. she repeats, making that her last word before she turned away to look out of the window. even when daniel finally got back in the car yeonjun sat there quietly, wondering what she was talking about. he hated how difficult she was making this. if she didn’t want to be married to him that’s all she had to say. but she wasn’t saying that.

yeonjun was glad when he finally dropped her off to the real estate company she’s been working at for years now. she got out the car without saying a word. yeonjun wanted to remind her that since he picked up the kids yesterday it would be her turn today. but he didn’t even bother. he knew she was going to act like it slipped her mind and he didn’t want his children waiting around like they were last time. so he put the pickup for today in his own hands.

“daddy? the book fair is coming and I want to buy books”. myla whines in the backseat. yeonjun was kind of glad she started talking, he was trying to avoid his thoughts as much as possible.

“okay just tell me when it comes and I’ll give you money myla”.

“since myla is getting new books can I get a new game?”. daniel chimes in.

“daniel why do you always want a video game? you should start reading books like your sister”.

“no one reads books these days. what’s the point of reading?”.

“there are so many things wrong with what you just said”. yeonjun playfully prayed for the boy hoping that one day some sense will finally come to him. but for now he’ll let him be the young boy that he was. next, he cruises his way to logan’s daycare telling the kids to sit tight while he brought the infant inside.

the caretakers smiled lovingly at the sight of logan, they thought he was such a cute and good baby--much more well behaved than the others at least. upon arrival the brown skin woman smiled her widest, reaching her hands out for him.

“ah there he is! good morning logan!”.

yeonjun tries to lean the baby forward so she could grab him but instead he clings to his father’s sweater.

“come on logan don’t you want to go play and have fun?”. yeonjun coos. he tries to instead lift him and physically hand him to her. but it wasn’t long before he curled his bottom lip and started crying in absolute distress.

“aw logan. can you give us a minute?”. yeonjun asks while taking him back. the caretakers grant him another moment while yeonjun turns around and softly bounces the baby until he was quiet again. he whispers,

“what’s the matter? you don’t want to go to daycare today? daddy has to work”.

the infant only sniffles, wrapping his puny arms around his father’s neck.

“I have to work so I can buy you and your siblings all the toys and stuff that you want. don’t you want toys?”.

yeonjun knew logan could barely understand a word he said. but he loved talking to him anyway. he reaches in his pocket trying to find something he could give the baby to make him last without him throughout the day. he was grateful to have found a baby blue handkerchief. it wasn’t a toy of any sort, but it was something.

“look! look what i found”. yeonjun playfully gasps. at the sight of the small piece of fabric, logan reaches his hand out to grab it. he played with a little before a small smile crept on doughy cheeks. he buries his small nose in it, happy that it smelled just like his father. yeonjun kisses his forehead.

“if you be good i’ll give you some ice cream tonight okay?”.

he carefully walks him back over being able to successfully hand him off to the caretakers without a problem. he was still looking down at the handkerchief and smelling it and playing with it and yeonjun hoped that could possibly last him. he gives them the diaper bag and gifts them one last goodbye before he was on his way to drop his last couple of kids off.

well, drop myla off. because daniel hated when yeonjun dropped him off. he was obsessed with becoming a cool kid and he thought being dropped off by his dad just wasn’t cool at all. but being the loving dad that yeonjun was, he embarrassed him anyway.

“daddy loves you daniel!”. he’d shout while his son walked down the hallway to his fourth grade classroom. “dad stop!”. he’d whine back hoping none of his friends would hear. but yeonjun only laughed and did it again before he had to take myla to her own kindergarten classroom.

it was a no brainer that by the time yeonjun walked in the door adriana was all eyes. as he signed myla in and kissed her on her cheeks he held eye contact with adriana even as she was across the classroom helping other students. the dress that she wore--- sent heat to yeonjun’s cheeks. she smirks knowing full well he was loving the view of the way her body moved in it, and he licks his lips shortly before leaving for work. but god, if it was up to him he’d take her to his car and pound her until she couldn’t feel her legs anymore.

he cursed himself for thinking about it throughout the day even while he was at work. while he was producing music it was hard for him to focus on the lyrics at hand especially with sex on his mind.

“damn did you and leah have a good time last night?”. taehyun asks while smirking, snapping yeonjun out of his daydreams.

“what? not even”. yeonjun quickly laughs it off to avoid confrontation. “I haven’t touched her in months”.

“you’re touching someone, with the way you’ve been daydreaming all day”. taehyun laughs. yeonjun checks his watch and shoves his coat on.

“shut up taehyun. I have to go get the kids. the lyrics are finished”.

“whatever. text me after you’re done touching whoever your touching”.

yeonjun sticks up his middle finger until he fully disappeared down the hallway and finally into his car. he got to the school in no time flat, although when he arrived he could still see daniel and his team still practicing in the gym. he checked his watch a couple more times trying to find out if maybe he came a bit earlier than usual.

he had to, because he’s never caught any teacher in the hallway before. at the sound of heels clashing against the linoleum floor he glares up to see adriana sashaying down the hallway, as she was just finished locking up her classroom for the evening, sharing glances with her phone before she finally noticed him and stopped dead in her tracks.

and just like that they bustled into the confinements of the janitor’s closet, hungrily tongue kissing each other like they would never do it again. the gray skin tight dress that yeonjun came to love dearly in such a short amount of time was now being lifted and she was perched perfectly against the door like yeonjun wanted her to be since he first saw her this morning. he snatched her lacy black panties down her ankles in a series of movements-- groaning and wrapping her legs around his waist in need.

with the both of them still coating each others tongues in their own shared saliva yeonjun sneaks his hands into her hair, he grabbed hold and jerked her head back against the door and she could feel the measly pinch at the base of her hair follicle but she didn’t care. the both of their lips met in force and their tongues battled stroke for stroke, each fighting it’s own stressors of life, yeonjun and his broken marriage and adriana with the abusive ex she had yet to tell him about.

but they delighted in the delectation of desperate rough sex. where adriana felt her panties get sticky with just one swift movement and where yeonjun became hard just hearing how heavy she was breathing. he gropes her ass hard and with a grunt, latching his lips onto another sector of her neck in which she wallowed in, enjoying the suction of his delicate pink lips on her skin. he nipped it lightly until they were now conjoined, hip against hip with his dick entering her and her slick core smothering it in it’s wake. the short breathless gasps she made when he stuck himself inside her was what he lived for. and he wouldn’t trade those sounds for any other sexual noise in this world.

he dug his nails further into the fatty globes of her ass thrusting so hard that her body was steadily hitting the door. if he was in his right mind he would actually consider making less noise but with the strain on his nerves lately he made a secret vow to fuck the living hell out of adriana; there was no way he was backing down now. she struggled to regain breath and sight in the midst of his determined thrusts but she couldn’t deny the fact that she wanted it more than anything. with her lips parted, eyes half lidded, she erotically moans and stutters over her words barely able to dish out a syllable before his hips snapped into her again.

“ggod yeonjun--”. she pants, clawing her own fingernails into his back.

“I knew you were wet but fuck“. he groans, seating himself deeper inside her. he reaches a hand down to her clit, mentally agreeing that it was the softest, wettest thing he ever felt in his life. he circled it a bit in one firm stroke and tightened his grip on her hair. she winces. his eyes, gradually darkening into hers---he waited until he had a good amount of her slick around his fingers before he sunk them into his mouth while goading into her eyes menacingly. he could feel her pulse harder around his dick the more he sucked and licked his fingers in front of her face like that, as if it wasn’t something she desperately wanted him to do to her.

“you want me to eat your pussy like this adriana?”.

at the sound of his husky voice she could just crumble beneath him. but he furthered his agenda of absolutely ruining her, dragging his tongue up her chin and into her mouth and once he found her tongue--he starts sucking it lightly. she whimpered against his mouth at the brutality of his hips, still demolishing her and making her legs feel like a keening mess. the faster yeonjun felt his orgasm approaching the harder he gripped her hair. she was practically voiceless, unable to control the responses she gave each time he slammed his himself into her. she was nothing mere of a toy at this point, but she had no problem with being just that.

yeonjun found himself obsessed at how abnormally wet she was, consistently reaching his hand down just to toy with her throbbing clit. adriana felt herself shudder at his relentless fingers and she whined into the crook of his neck. with no warning he shoves his coated fingers between her lips and kisses that spot of hers---the one that was just a couple of inches below her ear before he whispers into it softly.

“if we had time I’d suck the cum out of you”.

as if he weren’t pounding her enough she grew weaker at the sound of his voice and her orgasm was coming within seconds. she tasted herself on his fingers; salty but savory filling the buds on her tongue. yeonjun was biting his lips tearing himself into her repeatedly. adriana thought that if this was the way he looked when he was close to cumming she could watch him cum over and over again.

the intrusive mix of their fluids spiraled down the both of their legs as their chests heave and her back arch against the door. yeonjun crashes his lips against hers just one more time before pulling away and smirking down at her worn out features. as if on cue, the coaches whistle blows signifying the end of daniel’s basketball practice.

#yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun smut #yeonjun fanfic #dilf!yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun angst #choi yeonjun smut

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ollieologys · 5 years

Text

why, i’m just so happy! | p. parker

summary; New experiences lead to new discoveries; or perhaps you knew deep down - just never trusted yourself to say it. Enter Peter Parker: the boy with a heart of gold that changes yours to prosperity.

words; 945

pairing; Peter Parker (18) x Reader (18)

warning; marijuana usage! don’t do drugs if ur under 18, or 21, or 25. idk lol. this takes into account erm - my experiences. as does most of my writing. love u tons. i swear i’ll clear out my inbox before the end of summer.

notes; honestly not much detail on the smoking part but i just wanted that to be in there. also i’m working on my atmosphere so !! yeah love u tons

Your last days of senior year were a saddening but beneficial time of your life.

Midtown High School waved their senior class goodbye as tears were shed, hands were held, and chairs were placed on desks. You confessed how much you’d miss the place when you went off to college, and how you promised to stay in contact with all your friends. Even Flash Thompson, a known arrogant and incompetent boy, admitted his feelings of admiration for his graduating class. Not that you were surprised, entangling his arm in yours and smiling brightly. A group hug was formed in the final hours of the day, and you felt a pang in your chest that lasted for longer than you can recall.

Peter, the residential boy in the place that was your best friend, left school that very day walking in rhythm with your sneakers. Queens braced summer as the sun beamed down on the borough - a warmth spreading the entire city that while you may not swim on, the population of New York migrated into the streets to bathe in the heat.

Bustling as ever, you walked in comfortable silence with him. Both staring at the ground beneath you, your eyes shifted from the cracking cement to the boy beside you. White dress shirt beneath his blue sweater and all, you imagined him to be the someone you’d admire forever. Not just that, of course. You could never forget about his beautiful laugh or his precious smile, and you’d always remember the way he clutched your hand just the slightest bit more when he’s excited. The sparkle in his chocolate eyes that tells you everything you need to know about Peter Parker; he’s undoubtedly the best person to exist.

“What are you looking at?”

You stopped in front of your house in the suburbs of Queens. Your sneakers crumbled the specs of cement as you rolled on the balls of your feet. Peter peered down at you, awaiting your response with a suspecting look in his eyes. Peter Parker truly was, undoubtedly, the best person to exist. You’d never tell him that though. Not really. Instead, you would smile.

“An angel on Earth, baby,”

He would feign embarrassment, his hand brought up to his chest in a fake gasp.

“Oh, stop! You’re making me blush,”

You winked, a playful smirk forming.

“I have an idea,” Peter’s questioning looked returned. Your voice lowered, comically whipping your head around - even though you had known your working parents wouldn’t be home until hours later - before leaning closer to Peter’s muscular form. “Wanna get high?”

Such and such lead to such and such, and suddenly you were sitting on your platform bed with a prerolled joint sitting in a perfectly clean ashtray and Peter Parker to come with it. You knew Peter hadn’t tried anything of the sort during his high school years. You, on the other hand, had tried your fair share of tastes throughout your years at Midtown and discovered how helpful a plant truly could be.

He had just turned eighteen, though, and it was the last day of senior year. What could it hurt?

No less than twenty minutes later and you lied face down on your covers. Peter laid beside you, his eyes half-lidded and gazing into your own. Soft music played in the background, just to fill the air, while you could almost feel his breath on your face.

“Y/N?” He grabbed your attention, his voice slightly muffled from a quarter of his mouth being smushed against the bed.

“Yes, Peter?”

“Why are you smiling like that?”

And for a moment, you thought about retaliating. That is until you realized you actually had been smiling. Perhaps the grin was there the entire time, or maybe the soft smile reflected Peter’s unusually bright eyes. Then you reminded yourself he asked you a question, because you tried so very hard as to not forget a word he says to you, and you think of an answer.

You look at Peter, unresponsive, and in a way, look at yourself. He asked you a question, and the answer was simple; because you’re right there, Peter Parker. Because he was your closest friend, your best partner. It wasn’t just the sparkle in his eyes, his beautiful laugh, or that precious smile. Instead, it was the crinkle in his nose at something that hits his heart beautifully. The stars of freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and just below his eyes. That messy left eyebrow, the way he smells, the sweaters over white dress shirts and the feeling of just his pinky intertwined with yours as you walk on the balls of your feet back to your home. The warmth his body provides to yours when he holds you. Smiles from across the hall, running to your house at night (he curses how there’s nothing to swing off of in the suburbs), and the late-night texts.

How could you feel all of that, and not say anything?

“Why, Peter,” Your smiled widened as you sat up, pushing your hair out if the way and moving face to face with him. His cheeks tinted red, analyzing you. “I’m just so happy!” You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him tight.

Peter instinctively wrapped his arms around your hips and pulled you close. His nose and mouth nozzled in your shoulder, his voice muffled once more.

“You are everything this world could give,” He promised.

“Impossible,” You proclaimed dramatically, glaring with fire in your eyes. Somehow, you took note, your pinky found his and connected seamlessly. “For you are everything this world has.”

Notes; i don’t know what that was don’t eat me. also i edited it today because. i wrote this at 3 am on my phone so i made a lot of mistakes

peter parker taglist: @really-lucas , @exquisitebts , @pastelastronomy24 , @eridanuswave , @snowxbarryxendgame , @s-ecret--garden , @obsiidio , @lost-in-translating , @awokenfandoms @estate-euphoric , @night-girls-world , @notanicekid , @guccixuxi ,

general tag list: @devin-marie , @imagine-lovebug , @nedthegay , @magicalturmoil , @poc-gotbang , @zabdisamor , @romance-geek , @hollandshearteyes , @jackiehollanderr , @etudaire , @spiderperalta , @mapreza1

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fics #tom holland fics #tom holland imagines #tom holland one shots #tom holland x reader #avengers #marvel #tw weed #spiderman #spiderman one shots #drabble #blurb #peter parker blurb #petey

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zoe-oneesama · 6 years

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I'm sorry if this seems rude, but your treatment of Alya makes me very uncomfortable. This isn't something you're entirely to blame for, as a good chunk of the fandom treats her very poorly (with either ignoring her or reducing her role to "ships the lovesquare"), but the amount of comics and posts you've made about punishing Alya feels a little extreme to me at this point. I understand the salt after chameleon, but everyone was ooc in that ep. Also it's been over a month. (1/2)

I will start by saying thank you for coming to me with your complaints in honestly the nicest way you possibly could, I really appreciate you taking a very calm and critical tone in approaching me with a genuine concern.

I will also point out I can’t think of any comics I’ve made attacking Alya or punishing her, so I’m not sure what you mean by that, but maybe I’ve re blogged someone else’s comic and it’s not coming to mind right now. But I also try hard to tag stuff so people can block the rants they don’t want to see. I guess the probelm is I use the #alya salt tag instead of #anti alya.

And I can agree that Alya’s characterization has gotten out of hand in the fanon vs canon, particularly when we had that long hiatus so fanon Alya bled into the consciousness and confused what actually is canon Alya.

However I won’t apologize for being critical of Alya. I will try to explain my own reasoning for you though so maybe you can understand where I’m coming from.

My two main criticisms of Alya are 1) She’s not a good journalist and 2) She disregards Marinette’s feelings even though she’s her best friend.

The Good Journalist is something that I personally think is a fanon idea. Her being an ethical, searches only for the truth reporter who has integrity about the facts came from the hiatus, and my position on this is supported in canon.

When Marinette’s identity, the secret she holds most dear, is in jeopardy, because it’s Alya who is making the claim, she is unconcerned. If Alya was a threat to her identity (i.e. someone who often had evidence to support their claims) she would be worried, but instead she brushes it off. Like it’s not the first time Alya’s pitched a theory from left field at her. Even Nino laughs right in her face.

Volpina backs this up with her posting an unverified video of Lila claiming to be best friends with Ladybug without getting any sources or evidence that it could be true. In doing this, not only is she reducing her blog to a gossip column, but she is directly endangering this girl by blasting her relationship with a Superhero where anyone could see it. Because her scoop is more important that truth.

There’s also her crusade to find out Ladybug’s secret identity, something that, having established she’s a huge superhero comic fan, she should know the repercussions of. Endangerment of self, friends, and family in the face of a very dangerous super villain. It continues to prove where Alya’s priorities are.

But I actually want to make something clear: Being a bad journalist is not something I hate Alya for. She’s a young, immature girl. She’s wrapped in the excitement of magic and superheroes and is riding the hype to it’s conclusion. It’s partially Ladybug’s fault for indulging in Alya and being biased towards her friend that Alya has the platform she has and the belief in her abilities. And Alya does put a lot of hard work into her journalism, she just needs to do more growing and get a better understanding of what ethical journalism is.

I’m just critical of it because of the fanon warping her into this amazing journalist when she’s just a kid with no self preservation and tenacity.

The Bad Friend thing is what imagine you mostly came here for. And I want to make it clear here as well: I don’t think Alya is a terrible friend. Most of the time I don’t think she’s even a bad friend. But what happened in Volpina, Heroes Day, and Chameleon hit me in a bad way.

In Volpina, we see Marinette express concern about Lila hanging over Adrien and Alya dismisses her to gush over her blog.

I didn’t have a problem with this when it first came out. Marinette knows Lila is a liar only because she is Ladybug and so she knows Lila is lying in her interview. Marinette has a problem with liars AND a jealousy problem that has gone unchecked by Volpina. But from Alya’s perspective, Marinette is being unreasonably possessive and is prone to over reacting. She has no obligation to interfere with Adrien and Lila just because Marinette is feeling territorial.

This only becomes an issue in addition to the other two episodes.

In Heroes Day we get this gem of a line, which is really irritating, esPECIALLY because as a series finale it had to come after Frozer, which proved that Marinette has made great strides in overcoming her jealousy. As her best friend, Alya should be giving Marinette the benefit of the doubt, not Lila. But instead, she doesn’t ask what Marinette’s problem is with Lila she just assumes it without opening discussion about what could be bothering her usually kind and accommodating best friend. Compound it with her dismissal of Marinette in Volpina, and I’m beginning to get weary.

But then Chameleon. Ooooooh Chameleon. Let me count the ways Alya specifically failed as a friend:

1) Kicked Marinette out if her seat without asking

2) Replaced Marinette as her seatmate with her boyfriend without asking

3) Pushing Marinette to the back row seat alone without asking

4) When Marinette claims Lila is lying, Alya asks for Marinette to prove Lila isn’t telling the truth instead of investigating if Lila is telling the truth.

5) Pulls that not apology apology that puts the blame on Marinette for getting upset about the situation.

(gif by @oui-ladybug)

That last on is subject to interpretation, but look at it closely, There’s no “I’m sorry for putting you in that situation without your consent.” No “I’m sorry for not taking your feelings into account.”

This throw away line is like someone saying “I’m sorry YOU got upset.” Like you overreacted. Like it’s your fault you got hurt.

You may say I’m reaching, and I’ll admit my interpretation is probably not a universal one. I’ve made no secret of it in past posts. I have a personal issue with how Alya acts in regard to Marinette’s feelings.

I had a best friend from the age of 5 to 20. Looking back I can find a lot of flaws in our friendship but at the time I thought it was great, mutually supportive and filled with love. Until she started dating. She had a boyfriend her last two years of high school and up to around the time we stopped being friends. She was attached at the hip to him, spending all her free time with him instead of me and bringing him to outings with us without asking me first. I tried to hide my discomfort because I had already almost lost her friendship by throwing up a fuss over her dating him - because he was my ex (first!) boyfriend. But I put my feelings aside because she was really into him and I valued our friendship more than this dumb guy. But apparently I was the only one.

Things went downhill fast when we graduated high school. She and her boyfriend stayed at home and went to a local college (no shame there) and I went to a university 3 hours away. We weren’t going to see each other near as often obviously, but we had always been very good at texting and calling each other so I wasn’t worried. But she didn’t text me anymore. She never called. All contact I had to initiate first. She never made the drive up to see me unless she needed something (she stayed at my place when she wanted to go to the Renaissance Fair nearby my college).

But what hurt most is when I would drive down to see her. I’d drive the three hours, having made plans weeks in advance to make sure it worked around our schedules, only for her to cancel last minute on me. Because she wanted to hang out with her boyfriend instead. The same boyfriend she saw LITERALLY everyday. And it happened multiple times.

She didn’t care what I did for her. She didn’t respect my time or effort or feelings. She assumed I’d be fine with it. She assumed I wouldn’t mind or if I did I’d “get over it” like I always do (get over it as in grin and bear it). She made decisions for me and without regard to what I thought. She just wanted a cardboard cutout to call Best Friend without actually putting in any of the work.

There are plenty of other things that started to bother me about our friendship, but because this is what ultimately ended it it’s what bothers me the most. So I take personal offense with Alya making assumptions about Marinette’s feelings and justifications without asking. I have issues with Alya making decisions for Marinette without asking. And I especially have issues with Alya choosing her boyfriend over her best friend because that hits me personally.

I know Chameleon was OOc for the characters…for MOST of the characters. But Alya? This has been building up. It’s not the first time. It’s just the most egregious time.

And a bonus it’s really annoying that Alya assumes Marinette is crazy jealous when a few of Marinette’s craziest moments are a result of Alya’s insistence or pushing OR Alya tries to steer her away from making mature decisions.

Marinette stealing Adrien’s phone?

Marinette making an elaborate scheme to separate Adrien from his bodyguard to go on a date with him?

Marinette tries to be realistic and help Adrien on his date while simultaneously letting him go?

Alya was one of those cases where one event made me think back really hard about her role as Marinette’s best friend and just what kind of hand she’s had in shaping Marinette’s behavior, and honestly? She’s not the amazing friend I remembered her as in Season 1. Which sucks! Because I lOVEd Alya. A sassy mom friend who takes no shit and gets shit done? A gorgeous POC that pushed her friend to make things happen for herself?! Yes please!

So I still hate on Chameleon, not just for the episode, but for the wakeup call I DIDN’t ask for!!

p.s. the reason I’m still salting on it is because the episode totally failed to resolve Alya’s issues in this episode. i.e. being a hypocrite.

#alya salt #ml salt #my opinion #ask zoe #ml #miraculous ladybug

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loptgangandi · 5 years

Text

so! literally no one asked, but these last 3 weeks have been a hell of a ride let me TELL YOU

so happy mun-day now you get to hear all about it!! (with pictures, I’m not a monster)

here’s the cliffnotes version:

december week 1: simultaneously moved back into a place and took classes then moved out of that place while taking classes and planning a 2-day overland trip from sweden to madrid. took said trip.

december week 2: attended the unfccc climate conference COP25 in madrid, got kicked out for protesting in solidarity with indigenous ppl & kids, got let back into COP the next day & proceeded to go to more panels and also protests. no i did not see greta thunberg but she was there. I did not see harrison ford either. I did shake al gore’s hand tho.

december week 3: week #1 with my mom’s new twin one-eyed cyclops kitties (yes both of them), spent the week frantically writing 2400 words of nonsense that hopefully resolved themselves into two coherent enough papers to snag me a nice grade then took a 36-hour trip up to london to see my sister perform at her bitchin new job.

elaboration under the cut.

Hell Week (or) Why You Sometimes Should Fly to Climate Conferences

So, after the nonsense with The Roommate From Hell (reddit rant here), I moved out of my room at her place and back into the dorms (where I still had a lease through the end of December). That required a fair bit of effort, but I moved things bit by bit over the course of about a week, and it was manageable.

But I had to be out of the dorms and have the place clean by the time I left for the climate conference, which in itself was a whole lot of coordination. Wednesday the 4th of December was probably among the worst, most frustrating days I have ever had, and I desperately hope I never have to deal with that level of fuck this fuck you fuck me fuck everything for a very, very long time. Somehow -- by some miraculous act of the gods -- I pulled it out, and managed to get my stuff into my friend’s basement, my plants into another friend’s apartment, my bags packed, my room clean as a whistle, my self moved into my hostel, and to every damn class that week. My interrail tickets came the day I planned to leave -- it was a tight fit -- and I managed to book trains and busses from Uppsala to Madrid with half an hour to spare, and get on the first train (Uppsala to Stockholm) in good time.

The next 48 hours went like this:

Stockholm -> Copenhagen (by train): uneventful, but Copenhagen train station on a Friday night is a little dicey, especially when you’re dragging around a 45 lb suitcase and another 15 lbs on your back

Copenhagen -> Hamburg (by overnight FlixBus): Uneventful, and I was sitting by a window with no one sitting next to me, so I was able to doze a bit on the trip.

Hamburg -> Basel (by high-speed rail): This one I should have booked. The website said that a reservation was recommended, and I understand why. If I’d had a quiet cabin -- or even just a consistent seat for the whole 7-hour journey -- I’d have been able to get a decent night’s sleep. Instead, I kept having to move to give people their reserved seats, and didn’t get more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep.

Basil -> Olten (train): this one was a mistake

Olten -> Brienz (train): where the fuck am I

Brienz -> Lausanne (train): oh right yes that’s the direction I want to go yes good get on that one

Lausanne -> Geneva (train): oh thank fuck, I 100% know where I am and am back on track. Sunglasses & 30 hours without sleep is a Look.

Geneva: Spend 3 hours with my mom, put a week’s worth of clothes into a considerably smaller suitcase, eat dinner. meet mom’s new kittens, Saga and Luna

Geneva -> Lyon (bus): Get confused about which bus to get on, get told off by the bus driver we were trying to convince to let us on his bus, realized mom had been trying to put me on the wrong bus. Get on the right bus. Go to Lyon with bus driver who speaks no French or English, only Spanish.

Lyon -> Barcelona (night bus): Hell. Just. Absolute Hell Bus. Wanted To Die all night. Assigned to aisle seat just before the very back next to a very, very tall man who was quite polite but had no room for his legs. Behind us were two men, one of whom was loudly chewing gum until he took off his shoes and fell asleep, the other of whom snored like a gd bulldozer. Aisle seat and wailing baby a few rows down meant that my chances of sleeping comfortably were 0. I did manage to doze off a bit, but only because I was so strung out from not sleeping the night before. Eventually made it to Barcelona alive and lent my phone to the very nice lady with the wailing baby (plus like 5 other family members, none of whom had cell service).

Barcelona -> Madrid (train): Absolutely gorgeous train ride through the Spanish countryside that I really did want to stay awake to enjoy. Managed to do so until we got to an elevation where it was just thick, dense fog and I let myself fall asleep.

Madrid: I arrived at my hostel groggy, dazed, and in pain from two bad nights in a row. I considered a nap, but also considered that I’d need to wake up early the next morning and would need to fall asleep. Opted to try to set up my COP25 blog instead. Failed due to aforementioned grogginess. Walked to the corner to get some food and tried to pay for it with Swedish kronor, which didn’t work. Apologized, explained to the amused man that it had been a long weekend, paid him in Euros instead. Used the hostel’s dry sauna (!!!!), took a shower, and went to bed.

COP25 - The Old White Fuckening

So, listen, I’m not going to go into detail about COP. If you want to read about how much of a tonedeaf clusterfuck the negotiations were (as opposed to the really interesting, inspiring stuff happening in the side sessions), BBC has some good articles.

If you want to listen to some of the press conferences and plenaries, here they are. I especially recommend the ones by the Women’s Earth and Climate Caucus, Fridays for Future, and as many of the Indigenous Peoples’ statements as you can (most of them are in Spanish and/or Portuguese. Because the COP was supposed to be held in Chile, many of the registered Indigenous participants were from Amazonas because it was supposed to not be far to travel).

If you want to listen to some of the side events, the webcasts have been recorded here. Click the link, and then click “Join the event.” I again recommend the ones by Indigenous groups (if you can understand them -- we all had translation headphones in the sessions, but I don’t speak Spanish, so I can’t really go back and revisit them). Also, this "feminist attempt at connecting the dots” on “climate crisis, corporate power, and climate finance” and this one session from a Nigerian NGO and the government about One Health and the connection between climate change, disease, and other health risks -- and how badass Nigeria is at tackling them.

On the subject of tonedeafness, some absolute bullshit went down on Wednesday, December 11th.

Here is the article on BBC, but it’s a bit incomplete.

Here’s what happened.

COP25 2: The Old White Fuckeninger (Starring Military Police!)

So on Wednesday, December 11th, Greta Thunberg -- environmental wunderkind with truly glorious bitchface -- sat on a panel before a hall full of condescending adults in which she demanded accountability and immediate action from national leaders.

At the end of her speech, the delegation of Fridays for Future -- Greta’s own youth movement, which has become a global phenomenon -- stormed the stage. Representatives of Fridays for Future admitted that they knew what they were doing was against the rules, and they were ready to face the consequences: having their admission badges taken away (being “debadged”), and not being blacklisted from future UNFCCC events.

Neither of these things happened. Instead, UNFCCC praised the young activists, and let them keep their badges.

A few hours later, another activist group in attendance -- not an Indigenous one, a point that was raised by a young Native American man during the Fridays for Future press conference -- staged a sit-in outside the main hall where a large plenary meeting was scheduled. Said meeting was full of gimmicks, including a live call to the International Space Station so an astronaut could talk about the view of climate change from space.

I was going to attend the plenary. I joined the protest instead.

Admittedly, the decision was partly made for me by security. After pushing, shoving, and jostling the (mostly adult, heavily Indigenous, mostly PoC, heavily female, heavily Queer) protesters, as well as violently snatching their badges off their lanyards, security started herding them -- as well as anyone in proximity -- out into the open docking area outside the hall. One woman nearby, who hadn’t meant to join the protest and who had just been filming, tried to duck out of the group and got sternly told by a security guard “No. Keep going forward. No turning back.” A similar thing had happened to me -- I hadn’t made up my mind about joining the protest, because I didn’t have all the information -- but security made the decision, and in the end, I’ll always prefer to be with the people facing the police rather than those they’re protecting.

It was... furious. It was emotional. The leaders of the protest had us form a circle and turn our backs on security and the door. WoC -- many of whom were Indigenous -- led not just standard protest chants, but songs. Renewal songs, fight songs. The common theme was the intersection of environmental justice and femininity, queerness and suffering under colonization, anti-capitalism, anti-exploitation, and a call for colonizers to repay the colonized for all of the loss and damage already caused by climate change (climate reparations).

Eventually, UNFCCC made a decision. They decided to close the door on us. Security “escorted” us to the docking bay entrance, and the military police took over. Fortunately, none of them started anything. Obviously, none of the protesters did either. We made it back to the venue entrance eventually, but only those with journalist/media badges were allowed back in; the rest of us were not. Even people with Observer badges (like mine) who hadn’t been part of the protest weren’t being allowed in. But some people who were panelists, delegates, etc. came out to stand in solidarity with us.

Once it became clear that no more joint actions would be taking place, I went home, and waited to see whether the negotiators would be able to talk UNFCCC into letting us back in.

They did. Can you imagine the headlines? “UNFCCC Kicks Out Protesters, Bars Civil Society Observers From Climate Talks.”

Talk about going down like a lead balloon.

Which is about what the conference in general did. I was able to go back and get some more stuff out of it... including another big protest, this time led by Fridays for Future and sanctioned. It was so, so good. Many of the people from Wednesdays protest were also there, and while spirits weren’t exactly high, the emotions being expressed were more along the lines of determination and tenacity than fire and fury. Both are valid, and both have their place, and it was nice to have a balance -- especially at the end of the week, when we were all flat-out exhausted.

The Aftermath

And then I just didn’t stop moving. Saturday and Sunday I spent exploring Madrid and staying out late, Monday I flew back to Geneva from Madrid (because absolutely fuck Spanish busses and also absolutely FUCK FRANCE’s weeks-long general strike that I’m sure was for something very important. I’m sure. Because France never strikes over trivial things).

Tuesday-Friday was a takehome exam that I swear to god was more labor-intensive than my actual undergrad thesis, and Saturday-Sunday I flew to London to visit my sister at her new job as an actor in Shrek’s Adventure. Mom was supposed to go with me, but she has a slipped disk and sent me up alone. Which was nice -- my sister and I almost never hang out just the two of us. But that’s another thing I’ve been dealing with -- quite a bit of extra Stuff To Do that Mom Can’t Do because Back Hurty and there have been days when she literally could not move.

But now I am here! I still have work to do, and it’s holidays so there’s Holiday Stuff happening, but I’m hoping to get back to writing here in the next few days.

And if you’ve read all of this, you’re fucking incredible and I love u and here are some one-eyed black babie kitty gremlins for ur viewing pleasure.

<-Saga | Luna ->

They’ve got little bare patches on their tummies because bbies gotta be spayed

They got this tower two days ago and have learned to share, but the learning curve was steep

Saga doesn’t like cuddles but she likes pats and being in the vicinity of humans

Saga says hello

Pictured: Luna in my arms, Saga in Proximity

Luna stole my Spot!! >:C

If Saga steals something and then tells u to answer a riddle to get it back pls let me know. she does that sometimes. it’s very naughty.

#ooc tag #long post #if u read thru to the end there's kitties :3 #or you can just look at the kitties #it's not like I'll know #anywhere that's where I've been #I have literally Not Fucking Stopped for like a month

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